


Bleed Away Dying

by sidnihoudini



Category: Good Charlotte
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-06
Updated: 2003-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-03 07:25:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 31
Words: 59,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidnihoudini/pseuds/sidnihoudini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The art of growing up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bleed Away Dying

**Author's Note:**

> From the archives, totally unedited. Cringe with me, friends.

I'm dying. I'm dying and I'm bleeding and there's blood everywhere...and Joel..Joel hold on I can save you Joelpleaseholdon...so much blood...I hate you, Dad. I hate you... Pain. All I can feel is pain...I hope mom doesn't miss me. I want to die. I don't want to feel...I hate you so much...

\- - -

"You need to stop that."

"I know."

"Then why do you do it?"

Growling, I flick the cigarette butt to the ground, watching as the glowing amber burned itself out. I wiped my hands against the typical red grocery store apron, and wiped my foot over the cigarette out of habit. I don't let my eyes leave the floor until I feel his presence almost killing me, choking me to death. I hate him sometimes, with ever fiber in my body.

"What." my question comes out more as a statement, and I turn to see my mirror image - literally - standing with his hands shoved deep inside of his pockets. He shrugs softly, and sits down on the bench. Our break is almost over. Don't sit down. He runs a hand through his hair, his breathing slightly faltering.

"It reminds me of him."

"Don't fucking say it."

"Benji I'm not gonna sit here, and sugar coat the fucking world for you. He left us, alright? He. left. us. We did nothing wrong and-"

I know the look on his face as my body stiffens. I've seen it more times then I can count. His eyes - eyes clamped shut tightly, and I know he's watching my back as I dissapear through the employee's door of the Waldorf Market. I'm pissed off because he brought up the man who abandoned his family - us, me - but to have the nerve to say I remind him of that asshole? I barely make it to the lunch room before I crumble outside the door, pushing my body against the cold wall and sliding down to kneel - my head in my hands.

The smell. I know the smell of nicotine reminds Joel of my father - our father - and that's why I caved into my addiction, because it reminds me of happier times. When I would sit beside the man I looked up most to in the world - my daddy, my father - and watch him light a cigarette and read his paper. I would smile at him, and he would look at me, and ask me. "Benjamin, what did you do at school today?"

My eyes clamp shut tightly, and I can feel my body heaving, racking with sobs. My fingers are pinching the bridge of my nose, as I rock back and forth, back and forth - hearing my own voice echo through my ears.

'Guess what? Me an Joel maded a fort!'

I can still see him smiling at me, and I felt so proud that I could make my father happy. So fucking proud. Now look at me. I haven't seen him since he walked out on his family four months ago. I haven't been proud of anything since then.

Then I feel a warm embrace wrap around me, pulling me closer. I look up through my tear filled eyes, and see the only thing thats kept me alive. The only thing I bother living for. Because I know that if I died, a huge part of him would too. I couldn't hurt him. So I would drag myself through each day, telling myself that I can kill myself emotionally, as long as he's okay.

"Joel I.."

"Shh Benj, it's okay."

\- - -

We don't get home until near nine that night. I'm physically and emotionally drained, and I just want to curl up and die. As soon as I set one foot into the house I've called home my whole life, I can immediately sense that something is wrong. Mom is sitting at the kitchen table, papers and documents spread out in front of her. Joel doesn't seem to notice, he just kicks off his shoes and immediately starts to the back of the house, where our room was.

"Mom..what's up?"

"Oh, Benji, hi.." she stumbles a bit, and I don't think she noticed me until just now. She tries to pile the papers together, not wanting me to see what was wrong.

"Is something wrong?"

"Oh no..everything is fine. Um, did you want something to eat?" I watch her finally get ahold of the papers, and slip them into the drawer underneath the phone. She looks flustered, as she reaches to make me something to eat. "I've got some dinner I can reheat for you boys. Where did Joel go?"

Watching her carefully, I inch towards the drawer and wait until she's turned her back to me, before slowly sliding it open.

"I think he's tired, so he's just going to sleep."

Fuck. No. No. NO!

She knows I've found her secret, because now she's bracing herself against the sink. My eyes glide over the pile of unpaid bills and mortgage fees, and I can feel my heart sink deep into my stomach as I read over the bright red coloring on the latest rent bill that was due.

Evicted.

"We can go and stay with your aunt for a while. I need to pay these off before we can get another apartment." I can hear her voice, but all I can see is those big, red glowing letters taunting me. Staring at me. Her voice is faltering, and I know she's going to start crying.

I feel her hands on my face. She's trying to get me to look at her. I can't. I feel like I've let her down, like I haven't worked hard enough to keep my family together. I slowly open my eyes, and focus in on her eyes. Blue. I hate her blue eyes. Why can't she have brown, like me, so I can say I've got my mothers' eyes, and not another trait of my fathers?

"Benjamin, it's going to be okay."

"No it's not mom, it's not! I-we-oh my god, I can't.."

My brain won't let me function. We don't have enough money. We can't live without money. No house no food no bed..

"It'll be alright, Benji. I promise."

That makes me snap. I know I shouldn't take it out on her, but I do. I feel it building up inside of me, and I explode.

"That's what he told me! He told me he'd never leave me, that he'd be here for me always. He told me he was proud of me!"

We're both bawling, and I feel like such a baby. I'm almost twenty years old and I can't support my mother. My mother, who gave her lives to her kids...who I'm yelling, screaming at - I can't stop.

"I HATE HIM, AND I HATE YOU, AND I HATE WALDORF!"

\- - -

I feel him before I can see or hear him. Sniffling, I bury my face in my hands and pull my legs tighter to my chest.

"Leave me alone, Joel."

"Benji..hiding in our attic is not gonna make him come back."

I shake my head softly, wondering how deep of a scar I just left in my mothers' heart.

"Joel we're homeless."

"What?"

I hear the trap door shut - so mom can't hear us. He weaves his way between the boxes covered with sheets and the old furniture, and sits beside me. I yank my skin away from his touch - not wanting him to calm me. I want to take care of myself.

"Mom can't pay the bills. We didn't work hard enough.." I pause and steal a glance at him. His face is illuminated by the sunlight that finds its way through the small window above us. "..mom said we have to go live with Aunt Karen until we get enough money to pay off the bills."

"Oh."

Yeah. I sigh, and drop my head into my hands.

Oh.


	2. Too Much to Bare

We spent the most of the next day moving into my Aunt Karen's house. She was my fathers' sister, and wasn't convinced mom was doing everything possible to save her family. If it wasn't her that our lives depended on, I would have told her right off by now. I could tell Joel was edging closer to exploding, trying to bury his rage into a bowl of Shreddies she'd set out for him.

"Benji do you want anymore orange juice?" she says, right over my mothers' head. I visably see my mothers' heart break even farther, knowing that she couldn't provide for her children - but the sister of the man she had loved and left could.

"No Aunt Karen, I'm alright."

"I wanted to talk to you about your...piercings." she slid into the seat next to Joel and across from me, "Benjamin, how do you expect to get into a worthwhile collage when you've got pieces of metal protruding from your face, and ink all over your arms?"

My stomach twisted, and I finally seemed to notice what we had gotten ourselves into. I eyed the dining room, the white lace and golden walls making me nautious . I missed our tattered dishrags and chipped paint. I missed the way my mother would know I wanted two glasses of orange juice, and same with Joel.

"I don't think I'll go to a big college, Aunt Karen. I might go to a community one, here in Waldorf." I mumble, trying to suck my piercings into my mouth.

"Yes, but Benjamin-"

"Benji."

"Benji. Those are permanent marks all over your arms.."

"I've only got one tattoo that you can see. It says 'mom'. I don't think it'll bother them."

My feathers were starting to get ruffled, because here she was, picking on me. Telling me that the way I looked wasn't good enough for a 'worthwhile college'. Maybe I didn't want to go to college. Maybe I would stay here in Waldorf, and work four shifts a day instead of school. Maybe if me and Joel did it both, we could support mom then. Maybe we could make it work. She just needed to get her debts paid off..

"Um, Benj, can I talk to you in the other room?"

My eyes shoot up to meet Joel's - full of fire. I'm not sure what to expect, so I nod slowly and climb to my feet. I touch my mother's sholder gently, Aunt Karen's body turned towards the sink. She looks upto me - her eyes full of unshed tears. I feel my own water up as she clutches at my hand, squeezes gently, and nods me off to follow Joel.

I force a small smile, and let go of her deathgrip.

"Thank you for the breakfast, Aunt Karen. I really appreciated it." I force, and duck out the door. Fine. If I needed to do this to save my mother, then I would. I would be somebody I wasn't, and I would do it every day until we were sofuckinghighabove her that she wouldn't know what had hit her. I would ask - no, I would demand that she get me a glass of orange juice then. I wouldn't have to milk plastic compliments, I could talk to her just like I would anyone else that treated my mother like that.

Sighing, I follow him around to the back of the house, just underneath the window of the bedroom me, Joel, Josh, Sarah, and mom have been sharing. I look up to see it's shut, and then look back to Joel.

"You fucking bastard." he spits, his brown eyes blazing.

"What?"

"How can you do that? Make mom feel so much worse then she already does?"

"What that fuck? What the hell do you mean Joel - I was defending her!"

"Defending my ass! Here she is, - do you know what she had to do to persuade Aunt Karen to let us stay with her? And here you go, mouthing her off - just like you do with everyone else. Benji, you could have said 'Yes Aunt Karen, I'll try', and be done with it. But no. You have to go on and on and.."  
I can feel my eyes watering up, looking at my twin with wide eyes. My own brother, my other half - even he didn't understand me? My breathing becomes erratic, and I lean up against the plastic shingles of the house, resting my arm against them and my forehead on the flesh of my arm. I'm gasping for air, feeling like he's choking me.

He's verbally assaulting me, but I can feel my air passages being cut off with every. word that he breaks over my head. Ungrateful. Slob. Manners. Hospitality.

"You shut the fuck up." I mumble, my words coming out in a slur. I barely see him out of the corners of my eyes, but he's heard me. I know it. "You shut up right now."

Wiping my eyes furiously with my sleeve, the blazing Waldorf weather instantly fails down to what seems to be minus weather. I pull my arms around me - protecting myself, shielding it from the world - and start back around the side of the house. I don't know where I'm going, but I walk right down the winding driveway and out of the frontyard. I can hear Joel calling for me, already apologizing, but my mind has been made up.

I stumble down the road, my vision turning blue - ice cold, like my blood. I'm crying and I can't feel anything but pain. I can't depend on my brother, I can't save my mother, I couldn't make my father stay...

"Benji! Slow down.."

My sholder dips from under his grasp, making him stumble slightly. His breathing is shallow, telling me he's been trying to catch up to me - the muggy air getting the best of him. But I can't feel it, so it doesn't effect me.

"You fuck the hell off Joel, you hear me?"

"Benji, I just..mom needs...would you stop!?"

I can feel his fingertips grasping at my sholder, and the blocks passing by me as I half walk, half jog through the deserted roads. He's panting and I'm starting to hyperventilate from my sobs.

"Benji!"

And then I can't take his cries anymore. His last attempt sends me catapulting to the ground, and I smash my sholder against the cement, my head also taking impact. If I couldn't feel anything before, I sure as hell felt that. He drops to his knees beside me, and I can finally see the tear stains on his cheeks - red, wet and warm.

"Shit Joel, my sholder...myheadhurtstoo..somuch..." I mumble.

The pain is overwhemling, and I can feel my body begin to resist against it. I taste blood in my mouth, and when I roll over I realize I've passed out against the hard curb, and I've broken my lip ring, resulted in a very sore and swollen lip.

Joel is struggling to sit me up.

"Benj you've cut your lip. Geezes."

"No shit." I mutter. Locking eyes with him, I meekly lower my head. "I'm sorry. I know what you mean now."

He nods, and wraps an arm around my back, holding me up and steadying me. A searing pain is flashing through the arm I fell on, but my eyes are locked against the floor.

"Joel we've got to help mom...."

"Don't worry about it for the moment. Let's just get your lip cleaned up, alright? You look like you've been in a fistfight."

"With the road." I smile, finally letting myself to crack.

It's been too long.

"The curb, actually."

I nod, a smirk still hinting on my lips. I feel Joel snake an arm around my waist, tugging me towards him. We're pretty much the same size, I figure, so it doesn't take him too long to drag me into a McDonalds. After scaring a few kids on the caged jungle gym with my bloody snarl - without Joel noticing, I might add - I stumble into the bathroom behind him. I hear the kids run for their mothers, their wimpers ringing in my ears.

He shuts the door behind me, and I realize how cheap Waldorf is. The bathroom only has one toilet, a sink, a chipped mirror, and dull tiles. Eyeing the room slowly, I realize it's no better then my life. The toilet doesn't even work. Cheap, useless, and a complete waste of time and energy. Just like me. Just. like. me.

Joel uses one finger to drop the toilet seat down - I don't want to see what's in it. It makes a loud bang in the otherwise silence, and I feel my skin jump slightly. He motions to it.

I sit down on the closed seat, not really caring anymore. I hear Joel getting paper towels from the dispenser - the wssh, wsshh, wsssh noise digging up old memories.

'Benjamin you've got ketchup all down your chin.'  
'Joel didded it, daddy, I sware.'  
'Why did Joel put ketchup down your chin?'  
'Cause I stoled a chicken m'nugget.'  
'Well come on then, we'll get you cleaned up.'

I snap from my trance, hearing Joel turn to the sink to wet a paper towel. Our mother wouldn't think anything of it if her son came home dragging a bleeding one behind him. We used to be targets in highschool, so it was like a routine. If Joel got beat up, I would pull him through the door the same way he had done me, my mom would smile sympathetically at him, touching his head, and I would help him to the bathroom in our three bedroom house. It was the same thing every day after school - if I got beat up, he'd do the same to me. Just like we were doing now.

I wonder what Aunt Karen would say.

With that thought in mind, I hiss as Joel presses a cheap brown paper towel to my lip. How did he get in front of me so quickly?

"Your gonna have to get a new ring. It'll grow back over if you don't get it in there." he mumbled, artistically dabbing the warm towel against my lip. I could taste blood, but I knew it would bleed itself out. I wonder if Joel can feel how cold my blood is. Well, how cold it feels to me.. I try to move my shoulder, and gasp in pain. " Don't move, nutfuck. You probably broke it."

"Thank you, Doctor Combs."

"Your sarcasm never leaves you, does it? And don't call me that."

"I could say the same to you..about your sarcasm, I mean."

"For someone with their lip busted open, your putting an awful lot of trust into someone your arguing with that has - may I remind you - full advantage over your wounds."

"Yeah. I know. But I trust you."

He falls silent. We stay this way a few moments, until he is pleased with his nursing. I watch him turn and shoot the wet paper ball into an overflowing trash basket. I feel warmed by the fact he's trying to cheer me up, playfully clasping his hands together, shaking them in the air. I barely acknowledge him, and he falls silent again.

"Maybe we should take you to a doctor for that."

I stand up, only a few inches away from my brother in the close quarters.

"Yeah right. A doctors' visit costs an arm and a leg."

"Fucking insurance company."

"Don't bring it up."

"Why not. Benji you need to -"

"DON'T FUCKING BRING IT UP! JUST DROP IT!" I scream, my face what seems to be only inches away from his. His face softens, nodding.

"Your right. We need to let this drop.." he pauses, and all I can hear is our breathing in the small room. "..but Benj I can't..I can't forgive him like you did.."

"Well you need to try. He's your father, Joel-"

"And your his son, Benji. He abandoned you, and took all of our money. Not only that, but he did it when mom was sick, trying to put four kids through school. Fuck, Benji. Sarah is growing out her clothes every month."

"Yeah twelve year olds tend to do that.."

"Fuck Benji!"

"Joel, just drop it. You said, remember? Please.."

He hears the plead in my voice, my tone soft with him. I know he understands...

"I can't drop it, Benji. I'm sorry." he whispers, lowering his head. I feel my eyes well up with tears. He doesn't understand..how can he not fucking understand?!

"Can we go home?"


	3. Pretty Vacant

"I can't believe she fucking made us clean out her garage."

"Shut up Benj. She's letting us stay here free."

"She's also been putting mom through hell."

I hear Joel sigh, and the shuffling of boxes stops. Straightening myself from where I was bent over a dusty old box, I turn to face him. He looks hurt, and confused.

"Benji, what's been up your ass lately?"

"Hmm," I pause mutely, sarastically pressing a finger to my chin and pondering his question. I tap my foot. "Well, Joely, I think it could be..yes, this could be it - my fucking father ran away, my mother has lupus, I put a fucking crack in my skull, and now I'm stuck cleaning out my Aunt's garage. Could live get any better then this?!"

"Oh get over yourself Benji." I hear him hiss, his voice full of venom, "Your twenty, and you never fucking grow up. I lost a parent, too Benji. My mother has lupus. I had a fucking heart attack when my best fucking friend almost sent himself into a concussion, and oh look! I'm standing here with a fucking broom in my hand. Not only that, but you have two other siblings that are just as fucking confused, and pissed off, and depressed as you are. So if you fucking pigeonhole yourself into being the worlds' worst charity case, I'll break this broom over your head without a second fucking thought."

I stare at him, no words leaving my mouth. I'm letting his words sink in. Because he's the only one I'll listen to without getting defensive and putting up my cold front. He's the only one who understands me,...or understood me. I'm not sure anymore.

"Your right. Your fucking right, as always, Joel."

He sighs, and resumes his sweeping.

"I just miss the old Benji."

"Yeah well he kinda followed dad right out the door."

He's silent, and I can hear him sniffing. Fuck. I've made him cry. Fuckfuckfuckfuck don't cry Joel dontcrydontcrydontcry. I can feel it. Stop it. Stop.

"Don't cry." I say quickly, coming out sounding 'duncry'. Joel sniffs, and I can see him swiping his hand across his eye.

"I'm not fucking crying, Benji. Crying is for pussies."

I feel his body -thump- into mine, and I hurl my arms around him. We both fall backwards against the wall, and I just hug him. My insides are shredding up, because he's crying harder. I told you. Not. to fucking. Cry.

"I miss him too, Benj. I miss him so much. But I can't..I can't..."

"I know Joel, I know." I mumble, my body automatically rocking from side to side. It's what we've always done, I don't even think about it anymore. He clutches on to me, just like when he would get scared from thunder...when mom and dad would have their screaming matches...

I clamp my eyes shut tightly, hearing the broom slide from where it rested against the metal shelf, and hit the floor with a slap. It wasn't a bang...but it made me jump back into reality. My eyes cracked open, half expecting everything to be a dream. I would wake up in my bed on my nineteenth birthday, and I'd go downstairs and everyone would be happy. Mom, Josh, Sarah, Dad...

God fuck it, Benji. He's right. He left you. He. left. you. He took the easy way out, and he left. That was four fucking months ago. Four months that your mom hasn't had to defend her right to live. Four months that she hasn't had a raw throat from screaming at him. Four months that Sarah hasn't been thrown against the stairs, four months since my brother..my twin - my equal, and I had been locked in an embrace as tightly as this one.

He did the wrong, and you tried to help your mother. Pick her up at the same time you tried to pick up yourself and your brother, and the rest of your family.

"Benji you need to..calm down..your going to stress yourself out." Joel breathes. I nod into his shoulder, pulling him closer. It's always calmed me, the fact that we were so close. Everything about us was the same - even our finger prints were only slightly different, one crease curved more in Joel's right thumb. I remember we had stolen a ink pad from our dad's office one time, and dipped ours fingers in it when we were nine and still learning.

Instead of using the typical paper to press our fingers against, we were the typical Combs twins, and had opted to be a step above our older brother - and push our fingers all over the wall. We needed to see it on a larger scale, just like everything else. That was when dad was still..dad. He laughed and wiped our fingers, and the wall was white again the next morning.

Now everything was so small and dull and black...the only thing I saw in large scale was hurt and pain and suffering.

I nod, and pull away from my brother. My warm body drains to the coldness that I was diseased with since I broke. He notices, and rests a hand on my shoulder.

"We'll pull through, Benj. We always do."

I smile and nod, trying to figure out where my emotions were going. They were just...all over the place. And these weren't normal feelings. I was supposed to think about girls and cars and sex - fast cars with fast girls. But all I could think was how bleak I felt alone, how much I ached with every fiber in my body. But when..when Joel came along, it was just all better.

And it scared the motherfucking shit out of me.

Turning, I saw Joel resume his sweeping, pushing it all underneath a box.

"How long do you think we'll be stuck here for?"

"I dunno. Long enough."

I nod, and turn to face a box that's been taunting me since I first saw it. I reach up, and balance it carefully before bringing it down and setting it at my feet. Joel turned to look at me, the insecurity coming out in him almost immediately.

"Fuck Benj, put it back."

"Pfft. You told me to do that with the zip line-"

"And I ended up breaking my ass."

I narrow my eyes at him quickly, and reach into the box. I don't know why this box, something had simply drawn me to it. I flip the lid open, and feel my eyes bulge when I come face to face with a guitar. It wasn't an expensive one. Simply an accoustic guitar that everyone learned on.

"Wow.."

I grin and look up at Joel, who's oogling at this simple treasure alongside me. I pull it out of the box, and position it the way I'd seen my idols do. Joel was resting against the broom, and I caught myself staring at him for some reason. Just feeling drawn. Shaking my head, I arched my back and coughed.

"I present...Benjamin Combs-"

"Hey Benj?"

"I was presenting Joel." I replied, irritated. He always inturrupted me. Suddenly that longing from moments ago was filled with annoyance, and I looked at him with a cocked eyebrow.

"I see that. But you don't know how to play a note."

"I'll learn."

He nods, and sits beside me. I reposition myself, cough again, and let my fingers graze over the strings. A low hum fills the room, and something inside of me feels better. That one simple note had filled an insecurity.

I look at Joel quickly, who's locked his eyes on me. Not the guitar. Me. My face.

We both jump as Aunt Karen bursts into the garage, her car keys extended from her body, jangling and glinting in the sunlight. I eye her carefully, unsure as to weather she realized I had gone through her box.

"Benjamin? Where'd you get that?"

"Oh. I was being clumsy and I bumped into a box. It tipped over, and I knocked the guitar out of it and onto the floor. I was making sure it was still in tune."

"I see." she paused, eyeing her car, and then adjusting her purse. "I tell you what, I don't need that box. Just throw it away, and then you guys can take a break. It's getting hot out here."

"Okay."

I force the biggest fucking grin on my face. I could feel my skin cracking, crawling with lies. She smiles nervously, eyes my tattoo, and ducks into her car. I stand with that stupid, idiotic grin on my face until she backs out of the driveway and dissapears down the road. Then I turn to Joel, who's crouching over the box.

"Think we should look in it?"

"Dunno. Think I should steal this guitar?"

He looks up at me, his eyes unusually bright.

"Yeah. I do."

\- - -

Joel and I had resorted to sleeping on the pull out mattress in the livingroom, because of excessive heat when five people crammed into one room. It was bad. Me and Joel in a lumpy pull out mattress, mom and Sarah stuck in a cot, Josh in another, and Queen Karen upstairs in her four poster bed.

I eyed the window, the darkness seeping in through the curtain. I knew Joel was awake, just from his breathing pattern. It was scary to think that I knew someone better then I knew myself. I could sense what he was doing without looking at him. I could sense exactly how he felt by looking at the shade of his chocolate eyes.

Chocolate eyes?

What the fuck, am I a poet or something now?

I run the thoughts around in my head, and they swish around - not wanting to settle. Joel. Chocolate eyes. Know him..better then I know me. Sense him. Feel him. Sleep in the same...bed as him? Sleep in the samefuckingbed as him at twenty? I flip the blankets off of me - well the thin sheet that was sticking to me - and onto Joel, and dodge for the kitchen.

Fresh air, it's all I need.

I barely make it into the kitchen, almost diving at it like it's homeplate. I hear Joel's half asleep confusion, and curse myself. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck...your brother. Your brother. Your. brother. Bro. Ther. Twin. Brother. T-win...

The hair on the back of my arms are sticking up, goosebumps up my legs. I feel the bile rise in my throat, my eyes slowly casting themselves down. There is not. a fucking lump. in my pants. because I was thinking. about Joel.

Being in the same bed. As Joel.

"Fuckkkkkk..." I mumble, sliding myself ontop of the counter. What a sick fuck. A sick motherfucker. Your twin Benji...your twin... Maybe I was just gay, and it only took Joel to realize it. What the hell...that made it sound even worse. 'Uh, yeah..my brother helped me realize I was gay. I came out of the closet after sharing a bed with him.'

Yeah, that makes you sound great, Benji, just fucking great.

I'm silently arguing with myself, and I don't even notice him come in. I can tell he's not quite awake, but not really asleep, kind of functioning - but he wouldn't remember it tommorrow. I watched him slowly pull a glass from the cupboard, and drag himself to the fridge. After pouring himself a glass of iced tea, he stops at the door and looks at me before disappearing.

I don't think he took a second glance, and a small, gross, sick, part of me..wonders why.

\- - -

I was too fucking pussy faced to go back in there and fall asleep beside my brother, so I tried staying up all night. That didn't work, I fell asleep in a crumpled pile on the floor around one a.m. I didn't wake up until I heard my mothers' voice against my aunts'. I didn't really know where I was at first, the sleep disorientating me. I sat up slowly, popping my shoulder blades. I smile softly, knowing Joel cringes whenever I do it. Shit..Joel...

"I don't care if they're twenty Karen, they still need to.."

"Robin, they need to have schooling. I'll pay their way through. They'll amount to nothing, just like-"

"Don't say his name. Don't you say his name in front of me."

"It's my house, I'll do what I please."

It takes me a moment to put their words together, but when I do, I've never been more pissed off in my life. I struggle to my feet, my eyes blazing. The arrogance in her voice! I catch Karen off guard, and I think I do so to mom, too. She jumps slightly, but relaxes when she sees it's only me. She should still be going to councelling, but it's just one more thing we can't afford.

"You take that back this fucking instant." I growl, pointing a finger at her. She sputters for a moment, before pushing my hand back down.

"I'll do nothing of the sort. It's the truth, Benjamin, and it needs to be said."

"Truth my fucking ass. You don't know, alright? You don't. Know."

Someone tries to put their hand on my shoulder from behind, but I'm too wound up. I hiss, and hit their hand from me. I point a finger under my aunts' nose.

"Fine. You stuck up bitch. If you don't want me under your roof, I'll leave. I'll. fucking. leave."

"Benji, don't.."

My mom is pleading with me, but I've made up my mind. When I'm mad, I can't think straight. I snarl at her without realizing I'm doing so, but before I do something I'll really regret, a pair of hands prys me from the room. I'm hissing and my fists are close to swinging, but I'm yanked backwards - almost violently - into the livingroom. I topple over the back of the couch, coming face to face with Joel. He's crying. Again. That's probably why I got so worked up.

Great.

That fucking 'twin connection'.

The twin connection can kiss my ass.

I try and maul my way from the couch, pushing away Joel's grasp. He doesn't let me leave, but he lets me straighten up, so we're both sitting at decent positions. My aunt has stormed into another room, claiming she's going to call the police and have me arrested for harming her.

I've been arrested for harm, and it was nothing I did to her. Harm is...something I'd never want to do again. I'm not proud of it, and I never will be, but I don't think when I'm mad. I just...do, and I pay the concequences later.

"Benji, how much did you hear..."

"I don't fucking know. I woke up on the floor and they were talking about how stupid I was.."

"Benji, dad got arrested."


	4. One Man Army

I'm stunned. He got arrested? My dad..the one I always trusted and looked up to, was..is arrested? I shut my eyes, but they flick open when I hear Karen parading down the stairs. I pinch the bridge of my nose, and reach for my the plastic bag full of my belongings.

"I don't fucking want to hear it, Joel. I'm leaving." I mutter, and I hear Joel's breath hitch.

"What the fuck, Benji? Your running?"

"I'm not running, Joel. The fact of the matter is, Karen'll get me arrested if I don't get the hell from here."

He nods softly, and runs a hand through his hair.

"I understand."

"No you don't."

"Your right. I don't."

I look at him, and I feel my heart tearing. Just as I go to speak again, our mother walks into the room, her face red and blotched. Great, is everyone in this family fucking well falling apart at the seams?

"Boys, I think it would be the best if you go and check into a hotel tonight,.." she stumbles, forcing three twenty dollar bills into my hand. My eyes gauge at it, automatically shoving it back at her. My hate towards Karen subsides for the moment. Joel pushes past me, and clings onto my mother.

"Mom it's your money. We'll find somewhere to stay."

"Benji, I don't think.." she mumbles, her face in Joel's shoulder.

"It's alright. We need that if we want to get back on our feet, I can't accept it." I shake my head, and watch as Joel finally pulls himself away. He takes a step back, and ends up right beside me. I can feel the whole left side of my body pressed against mine. I stutter over my words for a moment, trying to make the sudden flash of heat go away.

My mother nods, knowing she's beaten. If she wasn't so preoccupied she would have noticed the red creeping up my neck. I wonder if Joel does. She slides the money back into her pocket, and hangs her head.

"Mom it'll be alright. You know it will." Joel tries, and I turn to see Sarah standing in the doorway. She's only eight, but she looks so much like my mother that I find myself jealous. Blue eyes, soft skin, a warm heart.

"Benji? Joel? Are you running away too?" she asks softly. I feel my heart break, and I wonder if she'll remember dad when she grows up. He had started straying when Sarah was a baby, and I feel so bad for her. I realize the only memories she'll have are bad ones.

"No, no Sarah. We're just..going to stay at a hotel for tonight."

Sarah doesn't believe us. I wouldn't either. She turns her back and runs back up the stairs. I hear Karen in the kitchen, talking with Josh. Fuck, she's sending him to New York. That fucking..

"Benj lemme get dressed and we'll go. I don't want to.." Joel starts, but ends up trailing off. Mom sits down on the couch, her head in her hands. I hate asking her for anything, so I don't. I reach behind her and take my shoes from the other side of the cushions. She catches my eyes, and for a moment I can see the clarity that was there before he left. Before he existed.

She nods, and I slowly pull my shoes on. Joel dresses quickly, just pulling a pair of pants and a shirt over his head. He grabs his bag too, and for the first time I'm glad all of our belongings are stowed away in a warehouse. Most of it probably belongs to the government because of the shit we're in, but the personal stuff..that's mine.

"Okay mom, I love you. We'll call you tommorrow morning, alright?" Joel explains softly, pulling his jacket from behind a chair. She rises to her feet, and for the first time I visably see how weak my mother has become. I suddenly feel so guilty for leaving her.

"I love you too, boys."

I nod, and Joel casts an eye towards the kitchen, where we can still hear Karen's reasonings. I reach behind the couch and take the case I've hidden from Karen since the day before. Mom doesn't seem to notice, she just turns her back and stumbles towards the stair case.

Joel and I don't bother to verbally communicate, I just follow him to the front hall and down the front stairs. I don't bother to shut the front door either, just walk across the freshly painted porch, and down the second set of stairs. Joel hits the ground before I do, but soon I fall into step beside him.

"I've got no money. Do you?"

"Maybe five bucks."

"Too bad we don't have any friends."

"I don't want any more friends."

He nods, and we turn onto the road. The same road I had painfully ran down two days earlier. Joel seems to notice this too, but he doesn't bother pointing it out.

"Why'd you bring the guitar?"

"I dunno."

We walk for close to twenty minutes, no money to do anything. By the time we get to downtown Waldorf, it's lunch. Funny. Seems last time it only took five minutes.

"I hate Waldorf."

"So do I."

We walk under the awnings of stores, eventually finding a small back alley and turning into it. I'm sweating from the sun and having to carry twenty pounds of belongings for probably close to fifty miles. I've never been good at ratios. Joel would probably say thirty, maybe fourty miles. I would have believed him.

He sits down on the stoop of behind a small restaurant. I notice he drops his bag first, then literally falls down onto the cement stairs. I can't help but feel the heat in my stomach with the gutteral 'umph' he makes.

Quickly collecting myself, I set the guitar on the floor in front of him, then drop my bag in the same fashion. I don't make the same noise when I sit down, though. I make sure I don't.

We sit in silence for what seemed to be hours, when in reality they were probably only minutes.

"Maybe we should figure out where we're staying tonight."

"What's the point, Benj. We've got no money, and I didn't feel right taking it from mom."

"Well maybe we can find a bar or something to go into."

"Yeah, that's going to work."

I feel my insides knot, a weird feeling. I know that when Joel thinks my ideas are even remotely bad, I feel a little bit more let down then if a teacher had commented the same way. But this feels....just, uncomfortable. I don't like the feeling of longing for my brother one bit.

"Joel?"

He makes a small noise, just a 'uh' to show me he's heard me.

"Why have you never had a girlfriend?"

"Well I didn't feel like buying little toys and dolls for her when my family was living in poverty."

"When dad was here, Joel. It wasn't so bad as that you couldn't have a girlfriend."

He turns his head from me, and mumbles an "I don't know."

"You can tell me why, Joel. You know you can."

"No I can't."

The uncomfortable feeling rises, and I can sense that I just shook something from it's supposed place inside Joel. I fall silent for a moment, then reach for the guitar. I pull it's case to my feet, and unsnap the hinges. The feel of the light wood in my hands calms me. My fingers run back over the strings, and I think I'm doing pretty good - until I hit a sour note.

"Benji it's just all so hard."

"You think I don't know that?"

"No, not that. Just...other things."

"Humor me." I murmur, still fiddling with the instrument. I know I'm not really listening to him, because I know what he's going to say. It would have been the same thing as me.

"I'm gay."

Ok. So. Maybe not. The fingers that were tuning the guitar fumble, and a string snaps from me twisting the knob too hard. I gulp, knowing that wasn't as smooth as I could have made it.

"Oh."

Great, so an 'oh' is really going to calm him. Your brother just told you what seems to be a problematic secret, and all you can offer him is an 'oh'.

Oh.

I'm stuttering and stumbling like a moronic idiot, but he doesn't seem to mind. He keeps his eyes trained on his sneakers, his hair still matted from his pillow.

"It's okay Benj..I understand."

Wait, understand what? He's moving to get up, so I do the only thing I can. I reach up at him, and pull him back down. The guitar slides from my lap, and lands a foot down from the stair we're sitting on with a hollow thump. I just embrace him, squeezing him as hard as I can. I can feel his hands begin to grasp my back, trying to pull some energy from me.

"It's alright Joel, I don't care. You just..caught me offguard, is all."

"Well your the first I've told."

I nod into his shoulder, and I can feel his hands gripping my shoulders, his identical fingers starting to glide through the dark brown hair at the base of my neck.

Wait.

His hands...in my hair...after admitting he's gay...

I'm trying to piece my thoughts together, but he jolts me when he pulls away abruptly, his hands clasping together like he's touched the devil. Well, he probably has. I eye him carefully, watching as his face turns a very light shade of pink. His eyes are on the floor, on the guitar, on my forehead, but not in mine.

"Joel..there's something else, I know it."

The only thing wrong with having a twin was that guilt in lies and cheating were always so easy to see. He could never win at our games of snakes and ladders, because I could pin point the square he missed to get closer to that ladder, the dice that magically landed on the floor to point to two sixes. Or so he told me.

And I can sense it now, not knowing if this extra sense was a blessing or problem.

He's silent, but he allows his eyes to peer into mine. My stomach flip flops, and I feel I need to get as far away from him as I'm allowed. I can't feel like this, I can't. It's sick and it's twisted. It's not real. He's gay, Benji..just because he's gay doesn't mean he wants to fuck his brother. His twin brother.

Sometimes your subconcious can do better reasoning then your brain, I realize. Now my eyes are on the floor, and this is starting to make me feel like I'm in some after school special.

"Now your not telling me something." he whispers.

All I can do is nod, barely acknowledging I heard him.

"Benj? You tell me, and I'll tell you."

My eyes slide to meet his, and I almost immediately feel my throat dry up. I can not be feeling this. For my brother of all people. What's worse is that I can't hold it in, disguise it like I could with any other person. And when I realize that, I can't force myself to breathe.

No. fucking. way.


	5. Waldorf Worldwide

"I...Joel..I can't.." I mumble, burying my face into my hands. Just as I do so, the sunny atmosphere vanishes, and a loud clap of thunder roars through my bones. I shiver, feeling rain begin to hit my bare arms and face. Funny.

"Fine. Just fucking brilliant." Joel spits, standing up from his position. He grabs his bag quickly, and begins back down the way we came. I grab by bag, forgetting about the broken and wet guitar, and jog after Joel. I catch upto him quickly, and another rip of thunder echoes through downtown Waldorf.

"Joel. Wait."

He continues walking, the rain pouring down on us both. I cast a glance backwards, and see the soggy guitar half submerged in a puddle. Like me. I feel like I'm sinking, and I can't depend on anyone to pull me back up. Joel rounds the corner, and my sight of the guitar is gone.

I turn to face forwards again, and a second later he yanks me into a telephone booth, making me literally..squeak. He slams the door behind us, and drops his bag to the floor.

"You know the metal will just attract the lightning." I say softly, watching him watch the rain. The light bounces off of his face, the reflection of rain from the glass walls making him look so different then I'm used to. The muscles in his face more mature, the broadness of his bone structure punching me in the stomach. No longer is that nerdy six year old in front of me, and it leaves an unsettled feeling in my stomach. Is everything changing?

"Good. Maybe it'll kill me." he grumbles, folding his arms across his chest. I turn around slowly, barely able to move in the cramped space. After working for three hours to get my bag onto the small table beside the pay phone - okay, so maybe not three hours - I turn back to Joel and find my chest mashed into his shoulder.

Think of gross things. Anything, anything...God, Benji you can do it any other time...don't fucking...

I clamp my eyes shut tightly, and try and reposition myself so my crotch isn't pressed against his thigh. I do it too slowly - too late, and he turns to face me, his eyes a wild color.

I don't open my eyes. I don't want to see the disgusted look on his face. I don't want to dissapoint him. I don't want to face him. My heart beat is racing wildly, and I can feel my body draining off all life within me. I'm so fucking hot for my twin that I can't even stand within a foot of him without getting a fucking hard on.

Isn't life grand?

My incoherant thoughts are still flying around my head, the words 'sick', 'gross', 'incest', coming up a few times. I try and block out Joel. But then I can't. All I can feel is his lips against mine, my head hitting the back of the phone booth from lack of muscle..I don't know, but I can't feel the pain. I just heard the dull 'thump', and then all I can do is feel Joel. Hear Joel. Taste Joel.

Fucking. Taste. Joel.

He pulls away, and my eyes pop back open. I keep forgetting to breathe, and I have to remember - tell myself, that I need to breathe. Breathe. I think he's having the same problem, because his chest is heaving and his tounge is running over his bottom lip. He can't breathe either.

I continue breathing. In, out, in, out, in....my eyes slide from Joel's face to outside, where it's still thundering and raining like hell. I feel so calmed, unsure of weather Joel or the rain had something to do with it. Maybe both. I take a moment to collect myself, but Joel beat me to it.

"Fuck, Benj.."

"..we're sick, Joel.."

"..I know Benji..but, but..I don't care...and it's gross.."

"It's incest, worse then incest...your my fucking twin.."

"But if it's so wrong, why the hell does it feel so God damned right? Fuck me..." I mutter, pressing my forehead against the cold glass. I feel Joel's arm snake around my neck, and he pulls me against him. Right chest to chest. My hard on isn't bothering me as much as it really should, and that unnerves me.

I take a deep breath, the smell of Joel's shirt reminding me of both our childhood, and how fucking illegal our feelings were. I hate the government for taking our house away, and I hate them for telling me that I can't love my brother.

"We can't be like this." I whisper, pulling myself away from him. I don't get far, but I'm just not in his direct grasp anymore. I feel cold and alone. He nods softly, but we both know were hurting like hell that this is happening. Hurting that it can't happen - and hurting when we realize what would happen if it could.

I might just gain the love of my fucking life.

"I know..I know.." I'm hurting now more then ever because he's torn. He's so fucking torn, just like me. He looks at me, his eyes red rimmed with unshed tears, "but why does it hurt so fucking much?"

I couldn't take it. I couldn't take seeing him like that. I pushed past him, slid the door open, and fell out onto the road. I tripped from the sheer force of my throwing my body against the door, and stumbled as I hit the curb. I regained my balance before impact hit, but I was halfway down the road screaming thoughts and swearing and just...hitting rock bottom. I think I might be having a break down. A mental fucking breakdown, because I just realized I can't love my brother as much as I want to.

And it hurts so bad. Worse then anything in my life. More then loosing a friend, a family member...having our house and belongings taken right from under our noses...living in Satan's way just to help my mom out...it hurt so bad, and so deep, that I had to empty my stomach. Everything spilled out against the side of the road, my salty tears mixing with everything else. I wasn't sure what was rain, what was tears, and what was once the content of my stomach.

My hands grazed the edge of the sidewalk as I fell to my knees, my stomach and my throat heaving - the acid burning the lining of my mouth and leaving an acrid taste on my tounge. I'd never felt like this before in my life. It felt like I was emotionally depleting, and nothing could save me. Not even the person I depended on the most, the person who was the cause of my pain and suffering.

I feel his hands on my back, his rushed voice in my ears. I no longer have anything left in my body to evacuate, so now I'm heaving and coughing and sputtering..and I'm scaring him, and it's hurting me..and I want to die. I want to fucking die, just curl up right here and go away. Disappear.

All I can do is cast my helpless eyes up at him, trying to make it stop. I want him to make it stop. Make it stop, Joel. Make the pain stop. He feels my body inside his, and I watch his heart break - right through his chest. That makes my body begin heaving more, the coughing beginning to turn violent. Joel drops beside me, sitting me up, putting my head between my knees. He always knows how to take care of me, and I love him. I love him.

"Benji we can't.." he starts, and I block him out. I know what he's going to say. We can't do this. I know we can't. But..Joel, we need to!, "..push these feelings down. They might be sick, and unwanted, but Benj..they are the most pure thing I've ever felt in my life."

Tears run down my face, making it burn.

Thank you.


	6. These Scars of Mine

"No mom, it'll be fine. Yeah, we just checked into a cheap hotel 'cause Benj had twenty dollars in change in his pockets. Well no, but like, a five dollar bill and a bunch of pennies. You know Benji."

I sniff, leaning against the phone booth on the outside. In all actuality, we both spent the night curled up on the front stairs of the church, hoping nobody would notice us. I groan and switch the shoulder I'm leaning on - my right shoulder still aches from when I injured it. And with good reason, too.

"Okay. Call him and say we'll be there tonight. Yeah, we can. Okay. Bye."

Looking through the murky glass, I watch Joel hang the phone up and check the coin slot for any loose change. I come around the side to see him more clearly, pushing the door fully open.

"What did she say?" I ask softly, feeling my spine chill. We'd slept in a puddle the whole night, barely getting any sleep. I almost wished we were back at Karen's, sleeping in the warm pull out. Almost.

"She said that she has a friend from the Waldorf Market she works with that we can stay with-"

"What the fuck Joel? We're not a charity case!" I exclaim. It comes out more shrill and loud then I had anticipated, and I almost yelp at my own outburst. Both Joel and I had spent too much time these four months..four and a half now, discussing the whole issue - and I was starting to get tired of it.

"Benji. We are, alright? We are a fucking charity case."

I lower my eyes to the ground, watching the drops of rain fall from the underside of the small shelf provided in the booth. It splashes into a puddle that's formed.

"Hey. Look at me."

Never have I heard that tone in my brothers' voice. My eyes fly up to meet his, full of compassion and concern. I don't feel sick or twisted thinking he has chocolate eyes. Because I see them now, and they are beautiful. Just like him. The corners of his lips twitch as he looks at me. I wonder why.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Benj. I've told you it before - we will pull through this. Because now we're stronger then ever."

"Funny. I feel the opposite." I whisper. My hands pull at the bottom of my dirty 'Rancid' shirt, a habit I've developed over the past few days. He shakes his head softly, and leans over to pull his bag from the floor. It's wet and it's soggy - just like mine. The short memory of that guitar floats through my head quickly - and I wonder how warped and impossible to use it is now that it's been left overnight in the rain.

"Come on. Mom gave me the address. She said she'd call her, maybe we can get some food. I haven't eaten in a day."

\- - -

Joel and I trudge up to the door of a middle class home. I feel almost comforted, knowing I wasn't going to be outdone this time. I hoped I wasn't going to be undone. I follow Joel up the wooden stairs, peace finally letting my stomach heal. He extends a hand, just as he goes to knock, the door swings open. He falls forward slightly, but regains his composure and smiles a little.

"Oh boys! Welcome!" I have to crack a smile at the woman standing in front of me. She's tall, whispy, and looks like she has more caring in her baby finger then Karen did in her whole body. She almost reminds me of mom.

That makes me smile even more.

She welcomes us into her house - not looking down on the dampness in our clothes, the unbrushed mess of our hair. She takes our bags and sets them beside the kitchen door, promising she'd wash them.

"Oh, it's no trouble boys. Gosh, you look a lot more alike then your mother made you out to be!"

I force an uneasy smile. Damn it. All the earlier thoughts of reasoning about my relationship with Joel flew out the window when that escaped her lips.

"I'm Joel, this is Benji." Joel covers for us both, pointing a finger at me before turning back to her. I nod, the best thing I can think of, but can't help but smile from the expression on her face.

"Well you can call me Anne. Your mom works at the Waldorf Market with me."

"Yes, she talks about the nice people at work all the time. I presume she means you." I choke out, trying to sound remotely...not like myself. I know I never keep it up too well, but shit. Everything breaks in time. At least that's what I figure.

"Well, I don't know about that." she chuckles, a healthy red glow on her cheeks. She realizes we're both standing in her hallway, soaking wet, and snaps back into life. "Excuse my manners. Let me show you to your room - you don't mind sharing, do you? My son is here from his fathers' this week, so it would be a little tight.."

"Oh no, it's no problem." Joel assures her. She smiles once more, and turns to start up the creaky wooden stairs. This place feels oddly like home. I smile at Joel for the first time in God knows how long, and turn to follow Anne up the stairs. I hear Joel behind me - I can feel his eyes on my back.

As we make our way down the hall, she points out various things.

"That's the bathroom, the towels and things are in that closet, just grab as many as you need before you go in. This is my room, my son's room - he'll be back after dinner, he's out with his friends.." my thoughts leave me as I look around the hallway. It's airy, but dark at the same time. Home and love filling the room, the deep brown wood and red wallpaper darkening it. It's relaxing, and it's calming, and I love it already. "And here's your room. I apologize for the lack of, but all I could do was change the sheets before you guys arrived."

I don't bother looking into it - I wouldn't care if it were a hole in the side of the wall, after spending a night in front of a church. In a puddle. Soaking wet. Instead I thank her profusely - Joel doing the same. She excuses herself, to let us get settled in and have showers, and disappears down the hallway once again.

Joel's eyes lock with mine before we enter the room - secretly hoping there's just one bed.

Our wishes were answered. The room fits perfectly into the house, but alike everything else I've encountered today, it also stands out on it's own and presents itself differently. Just slightly, but you can tell it's there. It reminds me of Joel and I. I shut the door softly behind us, and completely enter the room that we'd survive in.

"Fuck, it's nicer then I anticipated." I hear Joel whisper, feeling at home - but barely there, in this room.

I nod and touch the desk, the same dark oak wood that our furniture was made out of. Was. Past tense. But it calms me in a weird, serene type of way, and I allow myself to fall backwards into the bed. It feels like it's filled with fucking feathers.

How did such a bad few months come screaming 180 degrees around in a matter of a morning? I don't ponder the thought, instead my eyes drift close - my legs still hanging off the bed, my arms spread out across it.

Fuck it, it feels like home.

\- - -

"I figure if we just keep up the grocery store jobs, we can save up enough to get the debts paid off." Joel explains, pulling a shirt over his head. Anne had given us some of her son's clothes, promising she'd wash ours. We told her it wasn't necessary - we could do it ourselves, but she just smiled at us and took our laundry downstairs to the washer and dryer. Well. I'm presuming that's what was down there.

"Maybe we can get a few shifts at the store, or maybe a morning shift and then we can work as bus boys around dinner, and find something else to do in the afternoons..." I ramble, watching Joel dress himself. He had previously taken a shower, his wet hair plastered to his skull, water dripping down the bridge of his nose. His hair seems black now, because it's so wet. Not used to it, I realize. I watch him silently ; my words blending into the air.

"I don't know. We just have to work our asses off to get mom back on her feet." he mumbles, sitting down on the edge of the bed, and then bending over to put his socks on. I eye his back, knowing it was a habit of his to not bother drying off - just pull his clothes on, anyways. The white shirt stuck to his back, the damp areas turning it opaque. I remember he got a mean flu when we were twelve from doing the same thing in winter. I also remember mom working day and night, dad just ...gone. I sat by his bed, there when he woke up to give him his medicine and chicken noodle soup with dry crackers.

I nod, knowing he can't hear me - but still knows what I've done. He gets both of his socks on - grunting because they barely fit, but not complaining because he's thankful - and then turns to me. I still haven't showered - and I know I probably look like I crawled out of the sewer, but I'm relaxed for the first time in such a long time..that I don't care.

Joel and I sit in silence for a long time, occasionally stealing glances at eachother, humming songs under our breaths. He lays on the bed next to me and we don't bother dwelling on our supposed relationship, we just enjoy each others company. However when the front door slams loudly, we both jolt slightly - and then we hear someone start to yell.

Bad memories come flooding back to both of us - wondering if Anne's husband had come back after work and they had started a screaming match like our parents often had. I know we both look scared shitless, ready to bolt for the door - but when the screaming stops, and we both realize it was only Anne's son yelling his hello to her. We can't help but lock eyes and laugh softly, knowing that now we often presumed the worst in people because of our childhood.

Childhood. Not childhoods, like two normal people that had one normal relationship could say. Childhood.

He comes to this revelation beside me, and a loud sigh escapes his lips. This would never get easier, I decide. We might just have to accept it, and pretend that the feelings just don't show. Just go through life with how we normally set out - be successful, meet a girl, fall in love, marry her, have kids, and die. Simple enough.

But like everything else in my life, this was complicated. Try and keep your mothers' head above water, figure out exactly why your father walked out ; and why he's in jail now, wonder what you'd turn out like if you had been able to afford to go to college, fall in love with your brother ; scratch that - twin brother ; other half, figure out why those feelings are there ; and why you can't be together, and then die unhappy and unloved. Loved by a brotherly and son sense, not that love you've longed for all of your life.

Longed for. I longed for so many things that I couldn't have. I was just the stupid Combs kid - the one who's father ditched him, mother has lupus..you know what one..with..what's his name? Joel..Joel and..Benji?

Joel and Benji.  
Benji and Joel.  
Not Joel. And then Benji.  
Benji and fucking Joel.

But right and wrong flies out the fucking window when I feel Joel roll over. He rolls right over until he's braced above me with his hands and knees on opposite sides of my body - my identical body. I know there's fear and confusion written all over my face, but all I can see is his face coming closer to mine, that small grin on his face that signalled everything was going to be okay.

And then I feel them. The dreaded second kiss. All the kisser can think of is whendoidoitisnowokay? and all the kissee can think of is jesusshouldimovecloserorpullaway? But then when your lips finally meet, all you can do is think about how real and okay this all is. All you can feel is your lips, because the other parts of your body feel so unwanted that he's not touching them, they just melt away. And it just doesn't matter anymore.

I know a low moan escaped my lips, because I can feel his pressing into mine, asking for acceptance. Acceptance that I want to give over and over. I nod softly, and immediately his lips are prying at mine - trying to get deeper and closer. I open myself upto the kiss, and I don't even know if it's his hair or mine that I'm running my hands through over and over, wondering why I felt so drawn back from him a few days ago. This is all so right and this is all I needed to get closure.

My tounge slips from my mouth - touching his bottom lip softly, asking if it's okay that I enter his mouth. That seemed to be enough for him, because his whole mouth opens now - and I'm sucked into him. Mentally, physically, emotionally..everything in my body is just screaming 'Joel! Joel! Joel!' over and over.

Now I'm sure that it's real. It's real and it's pure and it's unlike anything I've ever felt before. I feel his fingers at the back of my neck, pulling at the hair at the base of my head. I let another small moan out, and then someone knocks on the door.

I can't say anything, I can't comprehend and I can't move. I feel Joel's body shift positions, before he completely gets off of me and stumbles towards the door. I piece enough thought together to get under the covers and not let whoever it is see my..excitement. Joel opens the door, his breathing labored but I know only I can tell. I clamp my eyes shut quickly, hoping that it will be quick.

"Billy." I hear a new voice say, and I can visualize him sticking his hand out and shaking Joel's. I hear Joel open the door up a little more, wondering if this was Anne's son. "My mom just told me to tell you dinner is ready. I take it your Joel."

"How could you tell?"

"I dunno. Just could."

Oh. Okay then.

I hear Joel say the same thing.

Joel thanks Billy, and shuts the door behind him. I roll back over so I can face Joel. A small smile creeps across my face, seeing as Joel's cheeks were pink, his lips swollen and red. Gee..I hope Billy didn't get the wrong idea.

"Well that was weird." he states, running a hand up the side of his head. I nod, and roll out of bed. My feet hit the floor, and I decide to take a shower. Maybe my life could be productive, after all.


	7. Jaded

I climb out of the shower five minutes later, deciding that I didn't want to go to dinner for the first time in a strangers' house smelling like feet. It was weird using a shower I never had in my life, picking up a bottle of shampoo someone elses' hands have touched, but I'm glad and I'm thankful I'm not at Karen's and I'm not homeless.

Running the towel over my wet skin, I eye the mirror, watching my reflection in it. Maybe I could look different then Joel. If I tried, I probably could. I stow that thought away for later, and continue drying myself off.

After pulling on the clothes Anne washed for me, I try and de-stick the hair from my scalp - not wanting to go downstairs looking like my head is a bowling ball. I dry it quickly, not bothering with socks, I just pull my shoes on. The funny thing was, kissing my brother, having a shower in someone else's shower - someone I didn't know - and having my clothes washed by my mothers' friend, it wasn't creeping me out as much as I would want it too.

I shake my head and open the bathroom door, making my way down the hall quickly, I round the staircase and eye the carpeting. I didn't even notice it before. It was cream with dirt scuffs all up and down the stairs. I wonder if Billy had lived here his whole life. Lucky prick.

Not knowing the house at all, I accidently find a closet instead of the kitchen - but I manage to find my way in there. It's happy and it reminds me of home. I feel so bad for leaving my mom with Karen..but as long as there's a roof over her head...

Taking a seat beside Joel quickly, I tap the toe of my shoe against his ankle, and catch him smile and me when nobody else seemed to notice. He had his plate loaded full of food, and it was then I realized how hungry I was.

"So, Benji, Joel. I guess you've already met Billy." Anne nods toward a skinny guy with bleached blonde hair, and I smile at her and nod my head. My stupid hard shell was slowly melting away, and it made me feel so fucking uneasy. It was what had kept me alive these four months, and I couldn't do without it.

If I had been like this the day that I found out my mother was sick and my father ran away, I would have just fallen to pieces. But I kept up my tough guy fatigue, and it worked because I couldn't feel. If I shut myself off to everyone and everything, it wouldn't bother me, and I wouldn't get my heart broken.

Now I was slowly growing up and melting into myself. Although I know I still have a temper - I jump to conclusions and I punch anyone out that tells me I'm not punk, I feel more at home in my skin. I'm not that perfect person, and I know that. I crawl in my skin more often then not, but it doesn't bother me like it used to. I figure I don't care what anyone says, well..most people. I care what my mother thinks of me and my twin - but not anybody else. They don't know me, and I don't want to know them. And that's the way I'm going to make it stay.

"So you play guitar?" Billy asks me - out of the blue. My hand jumps from where it was spooning corn onto my plate, and I catch Joel's guilty face before turning to look at Billy. He seems nice and he looks interested, but I'm dully aware that I've known a lot of nice and interesting people all of whom have stabbed me in the fucking back.

"Uh, yeah. I do." I lie. I hear Joel let his breath out, and I look up to see a small grin on Billy's face. He brought a fork full of spaghetti to his mouth, took a few seconds to chew it, and then swallowed. I looked up once more to see Billy swallowing a few gulps of his water. He took a moment to wipe his mouth with the back of his arm.

"Acoustic or Electric?"

"Uhm..acoustic. Why?"

"I've got this band I'm putting together. I used to be in this one called 'Overflow', but it didn't work out. So far I've got everything but a second guitarist, and a lead singer. We've written a few songs.."

"What are you getting at?" Joel asked. I nodded, hungrily devouring my plate. I probably looked like a pig, but fuck. I hadn't eaten in over twenty four hours. I didn't care at that point.

After taking a few bites and saturating myself, I give myself a breather and a drink of water.

"Well I figure if your gonna be staying here the whole summer-"

"-Until we get back on our feet." I point out. Billy rolls his eyes, inching that wall back up around me.

"If your gonna be staying here the whole summer, why not help me out? My dad is going to Alaska until August, so I won't be at his place, I'll be stuck in this dump-"

"Billy!"

"Sorry mom. But you know, I figure.."

"Sure." I smile, not realizing what I was getting myself into. I twirl my fork around, and take a quick look at Joel before going back to Billy's face, "We'll do it."

\- - -

"How the fuck could you tell him you know how to play guitar?"

"How the fuck did you get the idea to give him the idea that I could?"

We're both hissing - knowing Billy is across the hall, only two doors away. Joel glares at me, and runs his hands through his hair. I narrow my eyes at him, knowing that we put up some mad fights. It wasn't even a normal brotherly fight, either. We just didn't talk to each other, and that hurt us so much more then stale words ever could.

Now that I think about it, we've never gone to bed mad at eachother, and never stayed far away from eachother for anymore then a few nights. In twenty years. It was pretty fucking sad how much my life could depend on one person. I knew I could die without him, but I didn't want to sit on it and wonder what exactly would happen if he did. Because knowing my luck and my life, it would happen. And in some ironic way, too.

"I can learn."

"You can't learn to play guitar in one night. Even if you could, you haven't even got a fucking guitar!"

"Then I'll play you."

"Excuse me?"

My face turns sour for a moment, realizing what I had just said. How cheezy, and how unlike me was that comment? I snort at myself, and look up to see Joel's amused face. The comment runs through my head again, the teasing tone so unlike me I would have puked if it was anyone else. Hell, I might puke because it was me. It's so unlike me, but because it's Joel I'm talking to, I'm not ashamed. And that makes me feel even more put-off.

"You want to play me?"

I laugh fully now, falling back onto the bed. He pulls off his shoes, and tosses them towards the door. I hear them hit the carpet with a dull thump. We let those words hang in the air as he mulls about the room, pulling off his shirt, away with his socks...

I'm happy and content, laying on the bed with my eyes closed because I'm so tired. I can feel myself drifting back and forth between awake and conciousness, and then I feel Joel's knee press right inbetween my legs, making the mattress tilt towards him.

One eye slides open, and I see Joel balancing himself on one knee, a smug look on his face. I can also feel my stomach turn upside down, and jump five feet into my throat. Why was I resisting these feelings a week ago? Nothing seems more right now that I have him in front of me.

"Tell you what. You learn how to work a guitar, and then you can play me."

"I don't think you work a guitar, Joel. You play it; I know that much. And anyways, you can't sing."

"I can so."

"Maybe in the fucking shower."

"Ooh! Do I sense a touch of bitterness in dear Benjamin's voice?" he teases, and that pressure from between my knees is gone. He hovers above me for a second, and I allow myself to stretch - my shirt riding up my front and back. Joel flops beside me, making the mattress squeak. I tilt my head upwards at him, and catch him looking at me.

"What?"

"Nothing."

I smile, and lower my head again. Yeah. Luck was all of a sudden in my favor.

\- - -

I know I'm not a guitarist, and I know I'm not a musician, but I want to dive under my bed and cover my ears when I hear the racket Billy is leading us towards.

"This is Paul's garage. His parents are really cool, they don't care how much noise we make." Billy explains. Joel and I watch him bend over and pull the garage door up. I nearly jump when I hear someone beating against the drum skins, knocking Joel in the stomach with a hand.

"I see." he manages, referring to Billy's explaination. Billy motions for the band to quieten, and suprizingly they do.

"Guys? This is Joel, and Benji. Our new vocalist and guitarist."

I force a smile, and take a step forward into the garage. There's a red carpet on the floor, their equipment set up on that, with what seemed to be Billy's fathers' paint, tires..normal garage stuff hung all over the walls. It gave new meaning to the term 'garage band'.

"Joel, Benji, this is Paul and Aaron." I nod, trying to seem serious. How were you supposed to take a band that sounded like a bunch of dead cats serious? Well. If dead cats could mew, that's what this band would sound like. And that makes me want to laugh, so I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood.

We stand in awkward silence for a moment, before Billy shoves a mic into Joel's hand, and cocks an eyebrow at me.

"Where's your guitar? You said you played."

"Oh. Um, I just..fucked around with my brothers'. I don't have it here."

"You don't play, do you?" Aaron accused, reaching for his drum sticks. I can feel my chest harden, and Joel's queasyness. My wall comes back up quicker then I blinked. I could feel my palms twitching, my hands trying to get out of my pockets. I restrain myself, but the words fly out before I have enough time to take them back.

"Fuck yes I play. Jeeze, not everyone has enough money for a fucking instrument, alright?"

"Alright, sorry dude, I didn't mean to offend you." Aaron retracts his statement, but my stomach is still catapulting. Joel rests a hand on my shoulder, and takes a step forward. I growl silently, and stay where I am. I don't like him one bit. Paul I haven't really gauged...he hasn't said anything but 'hi' when I walked in the door.

"S'ok, Benji. You can use one of mine. I have an old one in my room that I used to play." Fuck. Now I hate Paul, too. He sets his bass down and makes a beeline for the door. Joel holds the mic nervously, and I can tell he wants to turn around and bolt. Fucking lies. Is that what my whole life is based on? I haven't moved from my statuesque position, but when I see Billy's nervous face, I slam back down into reality.

"Um I don't wanna destroy the mood or whatever Billy, but me and Joel have to get to work." I try, turning back to Billy. He nods, understanding, and takes the mic back from Joel. We say our goodbyes, and promise to come back after work, and head back out the door. Joel eyes me carefully, trying to figure out what had just happened. Call it the clash of the titans. But it wasn't really a lie. Me and Joel had to be to work. In forty minutes. Anyways, I figure we should call mom.

I hear Aaron whisper "I don't like them one bit" just before I step out the door. Yeah, well I don't like you either.

We get a block away from Paul's house, before we both climb back into reality. I tend to do it more slowly then Joel - like most other times, but his next comment catches me so offguard I can almost feel the wind knocked from my back.

"When are you going to stop fighting the world, Benji?"


	8. Underneath My Skin

"You ever wonder why dad got arrested?"

I stack three more cans of peas, before turning towards him. He's on one of those sorry ladders, the ones with only three steps - checking dates on boxed food. Yeah right. Even if they were a month over the expiry date, Waldorf Market would only lower the price a dollar and sell it 'on special'.

"No. I don't. I don't want to know." I reply truthfully, turning back to my task at hand. Joel grunts his responce, finishing up the row, and stepping off of his ladder. I try and block out anything to do with my father nowadays, all it does it bring me pain. And I don't fucking need any more of that. Not now, anyways.

He rests a hand on my hip, stepping over my box of cans. I feel so warm when his flesh touches mine, but it vanishes to burning cold as I feel it disappear, and he starts on the next row.

We'd been at Billy's house for two weeks so far. Every day they seemed to accept us more and more, and I wouldn't be lying if I said me and Joel were beginning to warm up to Billy. We were just so used of people making fun of us, feeding us the bait they needed to get us in their grasp before they slit our throats; So it was safe to say we were a little more then apprehensive when Billy wanted a video game opponent. I think we must have stuttered and stumbled until we were red in the face until I managed an 'okay', and slid onto the couch behind him.

That was probably the third or fourth day we'd been there, but it sure as hell broke the ice - because now we were fine. We realized Billy was just like us, in a sense. He was still in highschool, but at Waldorf Senior High. Not that it made any differance, because everyone thought he was a prick and a goth and whatever the hell those kids wanted to think. I must admit I thought that at first too, but once you get to know him, he's just Billy - the boy who's obessed with "The Nightmare Before Christmas" and hamsters.

He accepted us - as brothers, and we accepted him. And that was it.

Unfortunately I hadn't warmed up to Aaron in quite the same fashion. He seemed to be that prep that kind of tried to blend into whatever clique would take him - and it showed. I'd stepped into Paul's garage twice in the two weeks I'd stayed here, and neither had been a pretty site. The first time we started arguing about the way Joel was standing - I defended Joel; he pulled him apart saying that he didn't have the 'stance' of a rockstar. I'd said 'the same thing to you, buddy', and then all hell had broken out. I'd ended up storming out of that place, fucked if I was going to let him bad mouth my brother in front of me.

The second time wasn't any better. He almost got a broken nose out of it.

So I hadn't bothered to go back, and Billy hadn't asked me too. And I was fine because all I could think of was work and Joel. Two things that kept my head above water - kept me from sinking to the bottom of the ocean with a chunk of iron attached to my foot. And it was life. Day in, day out. Wake up, dress, eat, work, eat, sleep - and do it all over again.

But that didn't mean I hadn't been working towards it. I had borrowed Paul's old guitar. Apparently he learned on guitar, but switched to bass - and he was really cool about it. Of course I lied and fibbed my way around it; and I knew that it was no way to start out a friendship - but it had worked. I started a lot of relationships on lies; and got my heart broken in every case. But it soothed me to know what what I had gotten myself into with Joel was everything but that. We knew eachother better then we knew ourselves.

I couldn't help but wonder if there was more to life. All I cared about was saving my mother, and loving my brother - but there just seemed to be something missing. I was twenty and I didn't know what the fuck I wanted to do when I 'grew up'. At the rate I was going, I wouldn't even be able to afford a community college. I'd be sitting here stacking cans of peas forever.

"Hey Benj?"

I set down the box of soda I'd been grunting and swearing over on the floor, and turned to look at Joel - wiping the sweat from my brow, and then sweeping down to my lip. I could feel the sweat stinging my eyebrow - the piercing I'd gotten a month earlier getting irritated. I rubbed it, growling that it still hurt after all this time, and finally saw what was in his hand.

"Whaddya think?"

I take a step towards him and snatch the box from his hands. Flipping it over in my hands so that I wasn't looking at the back, I come face to face with a hair dying kit.

"It's pink." I state dully. Joel snorts - and I have to smile. It's a dorky, annoying snort that he's always made when he laughs. He points to the picture, and looks up at me with huge, happy eyes.

"Come on. I can do it for you. You keep whining about how you want your hair dyed."

I note this as well, and take a look at the price stapled below the other boxes.

"Fuck, we can't afford this. Ten bucks for a box of hair dye,?" I whisper, trying to push the box back onto the shelf. Joel snatches it from where I've returned it, and quickly opens the box. Pulling out the small tube of color and bleach, he tucks them into his pocket, shuts the small box, and returns it to his place. He turns to me, a large smirk on his face.

All I can do is laugh, wonder where along the line I corrupted my brother, and turn back to my box of soda.

\- - -

I stared in the mirror, wondering what in the hell I let my brother just do to me. Pink. Mother. fucking. pink. Well..that just makes it a whole lot better, doesn't it.

Not just pink. But a pink...puff. A pink, fucking, puff. I know my mouth is hanging open and I look like a complete and utter retard..but never in my life have I put enough trust in my brothers hands, including bleach, and let him do this to me.

Then I see his hands snake over my shoulders, and his head behind my shoulder. He rests his chin in my collarbone, and stares at me in the mirror.

"You hate it."

"No..it's just a little..pink."

He shrugs, and runs his hand through it. It falls flat against my forehead, and I try not to cringe.

"Maybe some gel."

"Yeah." I run my hand through the path he just explored, and my hair picks up for a second before falling flat again.

Maybe some gel.

His arms move down and around my waist, and I can't help but lean backwards into him slightly. He senses my slight movement, and a grin appears across his face. His hands move up, fingers sliding under my thin t-shirt, and up to rub over my stomach and chest. I shiver at his cold touch, his hands still damp from washing the bleach out.

"You have no idea what you do to me." I hear him murmur in my ear. I turn my head slightly, my eyes lazy - looking at him. A sly grin comes across his face, his hands suddenly moving down. They retrace down my stomach, ending up resting on my belt. He fiddles with my belt buckle for a moment, my arms looped over his.

"Fuck, Joel.." I murmur. His fingers slip underneath the top of my pants, and then back out. This time he unbuckles my belt, and slowly slides it through each loop, making me queasy and feel like I want to pass out. I've been with my share of women, and already it felt as though I could fucking bust a hole through the wall. He hadn't even touched me yet.

Painfully slowly he unbuckles and unzips my pants, and I can feel a slight bit of cold air on the top of my boxers. He slides his hands underneath the layers of my clothing, gripping my hips and getting accustomed to the feeling of my body against his. Every fucking minute that passes I wonder why I ever thought this might have been wrong in the first place. Sure, morally digusting..but God..who the fuck cares at this point...

I feel his hands inch lower, now they are searing hot and burning my flesh. I push backwards into him, my back pressed firmly into his chest. He lets out a low, animalistic growl, and I can immediately feel myself heat up past the point of exhaustion.

He starts kissing down my neck, leaving a wet trail from the corner of my lips down to the tip of my shoulder. I manage to gain a few ounces of strength, and hold myself up. He takes this opportunity quickly, and I watch, helpless, as he falls to his knees in front of me, unlike anything I've ever seen or felt before.

"I'm..I'm gonna.." he starts, his voice muffled as he continually rips at the flesh above my boxers, making my head fall backwards against the wall. I nod, feeling my adam's apple bob as I swallow.

Then I feel him close around me, his warm and inviting mouth swallowing me whole, and slowly retracting - re exposing inch by inch of my skin, painful to the cold. I keep my moans inside my chest - my pink hair now long forgotten. I can't stand the fact that the pleasure of his touch is gone, and just as I open my eyes to take this to note, I can feel his hands on my hips, slowly pushing me towards the wall.

I do as he likes, before he completely plunges his mouth onto me - his lips incircling my erection. This time I can't help it, a low groan escapes my mouth, urging him on. I don't know what the fuck he's doing, but I'm barely able to take notes. My head is pushing hard against the wall, my hips wanting to push towards his face. I can barely control the urge, but he pushes me back into place as he continues to use those muscles in his throat that I never knew existed.

My mind is spinning and my body is shaking as he teases me for a few more moments, before giving in to my pleading. The pressure of his mouth increases, and suddenly I feel a huge release - something I've never felt at this height before. I barely make it back down from my high, my whole body slumped against the wall.

I allow my eyes to refocus, and I see him smiling softly, pulling my boxers back up to rest on my hips. I jolt when it touches tender flesh, but relax back into my skin when his arm wraps around my neck, pulling me closer so I can taste myself on him. It's the most erotic and sexual thing I've ever witnessed, and I can't help but want more.

Joel doesn't say a word, just kisses the part of my cheek that meets my nose, and slips through the door. I'm left standing in the middle of the bathroom, my breathing laboured and my chest heaving.

And nothing has ever felt more right in my life.

\- - -

"Me, Paul and Aaron talked and we really like you guys in the band." Billy stated, more to the tv screen then us. I was flaked across the couch - hoping I didn't smell like sex, and Joel was behind us eating a late dinner. Anne had gone out for the night, leaving the three of us to entertain ourselves.

I just hoped Billy wouldn't be the odd one out.

"Aaron?"

"Yeah. I invited them over tonight." he explains, his tounge poking through his lips as he concentrates more on the game, "hope you don't mind. Maybe tonight will be it. Band or bust."

"Band or bust," I chuckle, "deal."

I turn my head to look at Joel and get his approval. I get a watery "uumph" from inside his glass, and nod at Billy.

"Count us in."


	9. Paranoia

"I can't believe that just fucking happened."

Holy shit.

I was in a band.

A fucking band.

I watched Joel walk beside me, his hands in his pockets. He had a sickening grin across his face, making me want to both scream in terror and happiness at the same time. Laughing softly, I elbowed him - his gaze lifting from his shoes to mine.

"I didn't know you could sing." I chuckle, and he looks back down at his feet. His grin widens, and I feel almost complete. All these years I had spent worshipping Rancid and music, I never got the initiative to actually do something for myself and start my own band.

The last three weeks were unlike anything else in my life. I had something to call my own, now. Something that was mine, and mine only. I guess Joel could say the same about me, but never had I felt so complete and so willing to call something just mine. It was always 'Benji, share with your brother', 'Benji, there are five people in this house, you can't have it all to yourself'. But Joel. He was mine.

And then there was the band. In-between working three shifts at Waldorf Market, I would either sleep or wander over to Paul's house to fuck around with the guitar he loaned me. I was slowly learning, by myself. If I had tried to get Paul to help me I would have exploded - I knew I would've. I've got a short attention span, and an even shorter temper. And all of a sudden I hate myself more, because those are the two traits I'd never seen in my father - but knew I got them from him.

My father. The person I never really knew. I had thought I did, but really - how well do you know the person if they walk out on your whole family after a lifetime? A lifetime that was apparently based on lies and false love, and it made my heart break all over again when I remember the day that mom told us that dad had walked out on her. Us. The same day that she explained what lupus was, and how she got it.

Lupus is a chronic inflammatory disease that can affect various parts of the body, especially the skin, joints, blood, and kidneys. The way she had said it made me sick - like she had been rehearsing it. Rehearsing something you would tell your son? Did she not think I could handle it, did she think I would hate her? To this day I get a queasy feeling in my stomach - remembering the moment of uncertainty I had when she told me that.

Now it was July, and mom had been living with Karen for as long as we hadn't. Joel and I visited her once a week, and made sure it was when Karen was at work. Even though we were both twenty, we knew we needed to check up on her. For us, to make sure that she was still there - that she hadn't left like dad did, and her to make sure her little boys were still...her little boys. Benji and Joel. The Combs twins; with the matching slacks and pink shirts.

I still hadn't found out why my father had gone to jail, and how long he was going to be in there. But I didn't care. Not now, not ever. And while I keep telling myself this, sometimes I can't help but breakdown. I'd never have a father again because he was in jail. At least when he was just...gone, I could tell myself he would come back. He'd remember the family he'd lost, and come back and find us. And we'd be happy again.

That was also when I thought I was going to grow up, go to college and meet a girl. So I guess I can safely say things have changed.

But some parts, I wouldn't have any other way.

\- - -

"I'm ugly. I'm ugly and I'm fat."

The words hurt me, but I know I'm the only cause of them. I brace myself over the sink, looking into the mirror to meet my own tear filled eyes. I feel like such a baby, and a wimp, but I'm crawling within myself. No matter how good everything around me is - I always feel like stupid dumb Benji is there to bring it down, lower the bar an inch more.

One minute I'm on a high, the next I'm so low nobody can save me.

I had barely heard the whispers, but they echoed through my head louder then ever. I wiped an eye with the back of my hand, cursing myself I was such a pussy. I was sick and tired of being scared of myself, but I couldn't make it stop. I couldn't sit back and tell myself, "Shit, I'm proud of you. Finally working and inching towards the future." My mind was so dark and endless I was scared to venture into it, think of something other then how much I hurt.

I couldn't.

All I could do was pity myself, wondering when my life got so bad that I could barely look at my own reflection anymore. And it was ironic, really, because to me - Joel was the most beautiful and deserving human being on the planet. In my eyes, he was perfect and everything I wanted to be. My whole life, all I cared about was Joel and what Joel wanted. Never had I bothered to stop and think about myself, and I guess I was paying for it now. But we looked identical, even now we don't look much different, but I still couldn't look at myself.

I wipe my eyes again, turning my head away from the door when I hear it open and close. I take a quick glance at the mirror, and immediately see Joel behind me. He looks confused and wondering and...Everything I wasn't. I was sure that I was the way my mind envisioned, and I wasn't going to change my opinion. I hated myself. My memory escaped me of a time I was happy with being 'Benjamin'.

"Your thinking about him again, aren't you?"

"Fuck off Joel. I am not." I spit. He sighs, and sits on the ledge of the bathtub. I hide my eyes from him, knowing that I can fool myself for a lifetime - but I can only fool him for so long.

I think I realize it's not a problem I'm going to best suck with, I just don't want to fix it. I don't want to be the guy who had to go to counseling because of his problems. I want to be the guy who it doesn't bother - who let's it slide. But I can't. No matter who I try to be, I can't please myself. It hurts, and I feel pain more then not, but I can't. Change. Myself.

"Benj, your gonna have to let it go some time. He's gone, and...There’s nothing we can do about it. As much as you'd like to, you can't. So you can either be stuck in some murky black hole you know you can't get out of, or just be...Benji, again."

"Is there a difference?"

He's silent, looking at me in the mirror.

"Yeah. There is."

I don't bother rubbing my tears away now; they just fall down my face. I can tell Joel is trying to be my brother right now, not the person who fell in love with me, not the person I want him to be. I need him to hug me now, and for some reason that connection we've had all of our life just hangs in the air - like it doesn't want to work this time. The moment that I need him most, he can't tell. And it scares the fucking life out of me.

I'm too weak to face myself, but too strong to look at him. I can't let him see what I've become, my insides clawing away, trying to turn me inside out. I hate myself, and I can't turn the reigns around to fix it. I can't take a hold of my own life, but I can try and hold everyone else’s' up. I'm human decay, and I can't change it now.

"Where are you?" I mumble, pressing my face into my hands. He's silent, but I can feel his eyes on my back. I repeat it over and over, whispering into my hands. They're wet and clammy against my face - soaked with tears. "Where are you...where are you...”

I can only fool myself for much longer, because I can feel myself falling. It's so much simpler to change, then to sit and wonder how you've gotten to this point...but...I can't do that either. For once in my life, I can't change into something I want to be.

Suddenly, I realize why dad ran away.

"Benji?" Joel suddenly appears beside me, the angst apparent in his voice. He tries to pry my hands from my face, but I've always been the stronger one - I don't budge. "Benji, fuck Benj - look at me!"

He screams the last part, the worry and confusion getting to him. My hands immediately drop, but I can't move my head. I don't move it from looking down at my lap, all I can hear is heavy breathing. I'm not sure if it's mine or Joel's, or both, but it's there. And it's full of worry and wondering, and I want to make it stop. I'll take my shame to the grave, because I can't be weaker then him. I. need. to. protect. him.

I tip forward, my arms wrapping around his chest firmly, never wanting to let go. So many people have tried to look inside me, try and figure out why I acted the way I do. The only person I'd ever granted access to that, was Joel. Because he understood.

But now... I'm so insecure of myself, that I can't even feel him anymore. I'm pushing him away.

"Where are you?" I whisper again, right into his neck. I feel my tears over my hands, running down his cool skin.

"I'm right here, Benji. I'm right here."


	10. Say Anything

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

I sigh, looking over the blank paper.

Fuck. You know music; you listen to it all the time. Write a fucking song.

The pen resumes tapping; making small ink splatters over the blue and white lines. It reminds me of school. I turn the paper upside down, so those blotches of ink don't stare me in the face anymore. One hour, and all I've got is three blue splotches.

Maybe you can amount to something, Benji.

I hear the door open and shut, and then the familiar weight of Joel beside me.

"Are you feeling better?"

"I guess."

He nods, and I look at him for a moment.

"I dunno what to write."

"Just write words. See what happens. I've never wrote a song either."

"I know. I tried that."

Joel takes the pen and paper from me, and sits himself up. He carefully adjusts the paper, and I watch, slightly amused. After he thinks for a moment, he bends over the paper and all I can hear is the scratching of the pen.

Shit, he's already better at this then I am.

Several minutes pass, and he hands the paper back to me, but keeps the pen between his teeth. I look at him slowly, before my eyes drift down to the book. I feel him shift again, crawling over me, and resting against my back.

"I dunno. It's just what I felt." he murmurs, his breath hot against my cheek. He rests his lips against my neck, and watches the paper as I read it.

All the things we talk about,  
You know they stay on my mind.  
And all the things we laugh about,  
They'll bring us through it every time.

I look at him from where I was reading, and feel so relieved that at least one of us can channel feelings into something positive. If I had the decision of writing a song to get rid of my anger, or throwing a brick into a sheet of glass, I would have picked the latter.

He shrugs, and takes the lid of the pen from his mouth, closing it back over the actual pen. I look at it for a moment, intrigued. The lid is bitten and chewed; even in the several minutes he held it. I smile at the way he's bent the pocket clip into a "L".

"Well. I like it."

Nodding, he drapes an arm over my hip, and slowly pulls the paper from my hands and throws it to the ground. He lazily drops the pen on top of that, and I gasp when his cold hand begins traveling up the front of my shirt.

He pretends not to notice, just rests the side of his head against my arm. His hand continues its journey, moving from my chest, down to the hem of my pants, and back up again. I eye him slowly, before letting out a soft moan.

"I still like the pink hair." he murmurs against my shoulders, his lips warm against my cold flesh.

I let out a low moan, agreeing with him in a sense. Fuck, whatever turns him on. Slowly, almost painfully slowly, he slides his body on top of mine, letting every piece of our identical anatomies touch. Grind against each other. Melt together. I automatically force my body upwards, knocking a groan out of him.

Lips meeting, I felt tongues duel before I realized exactly what I felt. The largest fucking erection of my life; for my brother.

"This is so wrong." I mumble, my words broken and traveling down his throat. Joel shook his head softly, never breaking our lips apart.

"Fuck no."

My body takes over suddenly, flipping his slightly smaller body so that I could only feel him underneath me. His hands pulling my shirt over my head, his feet kicking my shoes off. I've never had such a sensory overload in my life; just from having the tips of his toes graze my ankles, the feel of his fingers working at my muscles, inching towards the top of my pants.

"Fuck, Benji. Fuckkk...” he mumbles. I tear away from his grasp, pulling his shirt over his head - throwing it to the foot of the bed. He shivers at the slight contact of cold air, but settles back down when I run my hands down his hips, feeling the delicious friction of my skin against his.

Suddenly I'm at the top of his pants, and I realize how real this was all of a sudden. My brother, my twin - higher on the bed, writhing underneath my touch - wanting more. I stop and collect myself for a moment, wondering how deep into hell this is going to send me.

Those thoughts fly out of my head as Joel moans again, his hips grinding small circles underneath my hands. I let myself groan softly, seeing the aching erection barely containing itself under his pants. I unzip him quickly, tearing his pants right down to his ankles and throwing them to the floor. I crawl back up his legs, my touch making every part of him shiver and jolt.

I rid his boxers the same way, and immediately I'm face to face with Joel. All of Joel.

Remembering to breathe, I lower my body on top of his, letting my hips grind against his once more. He growls, and undoes my pants. I kick them off quickly, pausing to steal another look at his body. Fucking. Breathtaking.

Forgetting my earlier path to his lips, I go the other way, down his stomach, over his hips, and land on one thigh. I can't believe the effect I have on him, the feel of his body twitching and moaning in pleasure for me. Nervous as all hell, I lower my mouth over him, and almost explode myself.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

He's already bouncing off the bed, and I'm holding his hips against the mattress, hoping that it isn't causing too much friction involving the bed and the wall. I don't need Anne or Billy wondering what the fuck their guests were doing upstairs.

I wrap my mouth around him, re-exposing his skin inch by inch as my mouth explores him. He hisses when he feels the leave of contact, so I let my lips roam freely, lightly - barely touching his skin, until I feel his chest heaving, his heart pounding out of his chest.

Realizing he might come with or without my help, I once again take him in my mouth - this time sucking so quick and so hard that he reaches his climax seconds after my teeth graze against him. His whole body thrusts towards my mouth, shaking like a leaf until he collapses into a fit of heaves - trying desperately to catch his breath.

Looking up his sleek body - a mist of sweat over ever exposed corner of him, I feel myself melt at the sight. Hands clenched at his sides, eyes barely open, chest pounding up and down - he's the most beautiful thing I've seen my whole life. Moving my hands back over his hips, I run my hands over him, and take him into my mouth once more.

"Fuck...no, Benji...let me catch my breath...I can't...fuckk..."

Smiling, I repeat what I had just gone, Joel making the most sensual noises my ears had ever heard. He came so fast and so hard that I had almost wished I dragged it out longer. Just to tease him. The big brother coming out in me - holding that prize one inch higher then he can jump; pulling my mouth away one moment before he came.

Same thing, right?

"You sure you want to...do this?" he murmurs. I make my way back up his body, kissing up the side of his neck as I do so. Never had sex been so easy and natural then this moment. It's sappy and morally degrading at the same time, but its truth. Truth.

My breathing is becoming labored, but I manage to nod - feeling his hands all over me.

"Have you got any...?”

"No, you'll have to..." he pauses to catch his breath, pressing our hips closer together, grinding them harder, "...use spit, or something..."

I nod, watching the sweat fall from my brow and splash onto his cheek. Leaning down, I licked where it had fallen, and placed the palm of my hand against his lips.

"Fuck Benj...feels so..."

He moans once more, spitting into my hand. He pauses to kiss my shoulder, and then does it again. I've never done this before - I don't know how much we'll need. I slowly pull away from him, pausing to rub my hand over my aching erection, satisfied at the feeling my of brothers' spit against my skin.

I hover above him, and stick my finger into my mouth. After I'm sure it's as wet as possible, I lean closer to his body, and bring my hand between or bodies. I lower my mouth to his at the same time I enter him with my finger.

I've never heard a moan as low and animalistic as the one that escaped my brothers' lips. I pushed another in, and waited for another moan. When that came, I gave up any train of thought I might have been forming, and pulled my fingers out.

Checking to make sure I was as ready as possible, I braced myself above him, ready to enter his body. The only thing left to complete the puzzle was to be inside him. I managed an "are you ready?", and he a nod, before slowly moving forward - letting myself grow accustomed to the feeling of him surrounding me.

He's groaning in pain pleasure, all I can do is lean down and press my nose against his cheek - feeling a tear escape the corner out of his eye.

"Do you...." I pause and grunt, "Want me...to stop? I will..."

"Nono, fuck no. Just. Go deeper, harder, Benj...make me...”

I nod, gasping for breath, and push myself deeper into him. I feel myself hit something, and I don't know what I did, but it makes him groan long and hard. Propping myself up on my elbows on opposite sides of his chest, I pull fully out, and then push back in with so much force it almost knocks the both of us from the bed.

"Holy...fucking...Jesus. Fuck fuck,..FUCK...fuck...”

"Joel, I...shit...fuck...oh God..."

My thrusts turn hurried as I feel myself near the edge. I can tell he's almost there, because his stomach is twitching, and his eyes are rolling so far to the back of his head I'm sure he can see stars. Moaning his name once more, I clamp my hand over my mouth as I feel myself let go. He does the same thing in the same moment, and I swear to God I'm shaking and falling apart at my seams.

I can't let myself back down from my high - nature isn't allowing me to. Twins feel pain, and pleasure - and I'm willing to bet two twins getting off at the same time for the same reason doubles the feelings and whatever the hell was making my stomach do complete back flips.

"Holy fuck...holy fuck...holyfuckingshit." he's whispering into the side of my face, both of our bodies heaving and panting. I slowly pull out of him, the tender skin grazing his and emitting a whimper from us both. I manage to fall beside him, the mattress easily giving way underneath my weight.

I can feel his shoulder under mine, his skin sticking to my identical skin. Milky white, the color of the moon on a clear light. I try and regulate my breathing, just watching our arms entwined, and can't help but feel better then I have in years. I've managed to find one more piece of the puzzle, now hopefully I'll find the rest.

A contented sigh escapes my lips, and I feel Joel curl into me.

"You...you know, I love you..right Benj?"

"Yeah. I do." I pause, and wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling the feeling of him towards me once more, "you know I love you too though, right?"

I pause, waiting for an answer. When it doesn't come, I glance down, and see him completely asleep - his lips pursed in answer. I smile, and pull him closer to my body.

For once, nothing in my life feels disgusting and wrong.

It feels so fucking right.


	11. When I stare into darkness...

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What's wrong with that name?"

"Gold Star? That's fucking original, Aaron."

"Oh fuck off, Benji. Jeeze, your acting like it's your band."

"It's not my band, but I'm not gonna be in a band called 'Gold Star'."

"I gotta agree. It sounds like some training system," he pauses, and I watch his face contort. When he opens his mouth again, he talks in an accent, his voice higher than normal, "'Good job, Benji! You get a 'gold star' for using the potty!'"

Breaking into laughter at Joel's comment, I relax into the chair and bask in the irritated expression on Aaron's face. Fucking Aaron. Bugged the shit out of me, but I wasn't going to directly say it - because he was right, it wasn't my band. But just because it wasn't my band didn't mean I couldn't pick on the bastard.

"Amorpha?"

"Spasm?"

"Hemorrhoids?"

Billy's laughter echoes through my head, and I turn to smile at Joel - who's laughing up at his own comment. I chuckle softly, and hang my head until it touches my chest. I can feel my shoulders shaking; my chest rumbling, because all I can do is laugh at Joel's antics. He'd been a different Joel since we'd really...finalized...our relationship almost a week earlier. He wasn't so scared to hide his feelings inside of himself anymore, at least in front of me.

All in all, the fucked up life of Benjamin Combs was slowly turning around.

"Seriously. Okay, how about..."

"Ran..."

"...cid? Benj, come on."

I shrug, looking at Joel - his lips pursed, eyebrows knotted. When the fuck did my baby brother get to be such a hot bastard? I eye his arms, the white wife beater making his shoulders seem wider, and his arms thicker. I could feel my pulse wavering, beginning to speed up. I broke contact quickly, looking at my shoes.

"I'll uh - be right back. Gotta get a drink."

Jumping to my feet, I make a quick exit, not stopping until I reach Paul's deserted kitchen. Making my way over to the fridge, I quickly pop it open and view my options.

Water. Or Coke.

Quickly opting for Coke, I grab one of the ice cold cans, and shut the door. It's sheen with a damp layer of condensation, the cold contents meeting the warm Waldorf air - even in an air-conditioned house. Pressing it to my forehead quickly, I try to cool myself down - more than one way in mind. The feelings were all good and welcomed, but not in the middle of a band practice with three people who didn't know I was fucking my brother.

Definitely not a good idea.

Moaning softly, I moved across the room and sat at the table. Fucking heat. Shirt stuck to my back, sweat pooling in the middle of my neck. I hate the sun; I'd much prefer snow or rain. It relaxes me - Benji the punk rocker - and makes me think of better times. I pop the can open, and take a quick swig of it before I feel something astonishingly cold on the back of my neck.

It makes me jump, and I bounce off of my seat and look at what the hell it was that did that to me. I smile when I realize its Joel, standing where he had been previously, an ice cube in hand.

"Hot?"

I laugh at the openness of his question, and take a glance around the room before I step towards him and wrap an arm around his neck. I feel him laughing underneath me, his chest vibrating with chuckles. He manages to pull away from me, popping the almost non-existent ice cube into my mouth and taking the Coke out of my hand.

Grinning at him, I wait until the cube has melted to a decent size, and then swallow it. It cools my stomach immediately, but the sight of Joel just makes my body heat up again.

"Here, quick."

I lead him into the hallway and up the stair case to the second floor of Paul's house. As soon as we both know nobody is up here, he tackles me against the wall, wrapping his arms around me as his lips press to mine - the freezing Coke can stuck at the back of my neck. I shiver, and manage to get out from under him. He smiles at me, and I lead him into the nearest open door.

The room is a blur, but I feel the house shake slightly as he kicks the door shut. This time I pin him against the wall, stealing the soda can from his grasp and sitting it down on the first available surface. He grins into the kiss, knowing I'm getting so fucking heated.

"I think the heat is getting to you." he mumbles, his lips trailing down my neck. I manage to nod, moving like a rag doll as he twists me around and pushes me against a shelf. It shudders, before tipping some of the content down and onto our heads. Joel doesn't stop, just forces my mouth open with his lips, sneaking his tongue under mine.

"They..they're gonna come and..find us.." I mumble, the urge of what I felt getting the best of me as I pushed him against the shelf now, feeling a few books slide off the shelf and down my back.

Joel doesn't respond, sliding his hands up the sides of my body and pressing into me. I let out a weak moan, never breaking our embrace. The kiss turns sloppy for a moment, before he runs his hands through my hair once more.

Shaking his head, I feel his fingers grasp at the sides of my head, finally placing leverage between us and pulling away. We're both breathing hard; wanting more that couldn't be granted in the middle of Paul's upstairs floor. Wiping the sweat from across my forehead, we look around the room as though we just realized where we were.

"Look's like his sisters' room." I hear Joel mumble. Turning to face him, I wait until his breathing regulates before we decide to clean up the mess we've made and head back downstairs.

Picking up what seems to be millions of sheets of paper, I manage to collect them all in five minutes, and place them back on the shelf. I turn to see Joel looking at something. I itch behind my ear, before growing tired of his quietness and asking.

"What's that?"

He continues looking at it for a few moments, before turning it around so it faces me. It's a kids' book, the front illustrations vibrant. My eyebrows crease, looking at Joel, wondering what the hell was the relevance of the book.

"The name. It's perfect."

I reach out and take it, turning it over in my hands before reading the title.

Good Charlotte.


	12. ...it stares me right back in the face.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding you?"

I eye Billy carefully, watching as a slow grin creeps across his face. I let out a loud laugh, and feel myself jump. He's laughing alongside me, the two of us looking like total pricks in front of the small coffee shop.

"That's fucking great! How did you manage that?"

"My mom knows Edward, he runs the place. Said he can't pay us, but we can do a five song set on Friday night." Billy explains, and I turn my head to look at Joel. He looks nervous as all hell, but excited as fuck to be playing our first gig.

That hits me right in the stomach. First gig? I'd been playing the guitar for all of two months, and only have six or seven songs - not including the two that won't see anybody else’s eyes then Joel's. I force down the feeling, taking a deep breath to calm myself.

Doesn't work. We part ways with Billy; he's going to the skate park, and we've got work. Slowly my family is climbing back onto our feet. Almost out of debt and saving for mom's new place. The two of us felt so at home with Billy's, we hadn't bothered looking into our immediate future.

\- - -

"Benjamin and Joel Combs, wanted in the administrator's office."

I look up at the loud speaker, cringing at the squeak of Anne putting the microphone too close to the speaker. She was obviously working alongside us today. Lucky ass got to sit down and type all day instead of stocking shelves.

Wiping my hands on my apron, I kick a box of toilet paper down the aisle with the side of my foot, and push it so that nobody can trip over it. I literally run into Joel when passing the Deli, both of us ending up as a pile in the middle of the aisle. Laughing, I get to my feet; and then help him up - holding his hand a second longer then anticipated, but letting go before eyebrows raise.

"I was just stocking toilet paper. Have you had a productive day?" I ask quietly, making our way down the aisles together. He pauses to adjust a box that looks like it's going to fall off of the shelf, and then turns back to face me. His eyes flicker down to the small padlock necklace around my neck, and then back up to meet my eyes.

"You fucking joking? I'm at cashier. Mrs. Murrow had me in her meat grinder today, I swear. First the fucking peas weren't sitting on top of the eggs right; then she yelled at me because I put a rip in her paper bag." he grumbled. I reached to open the administrator's office door - in other words our boss - but it was yanked backwards before I got to do so.

"Benjamin, Joel; can I see you in my office, please?" Anne appears suddenly. I nod, not really understanding why her voice sounds like she's pissed off. She walks between us, and disappeared into a room two doors down. Her office.

Sending a worried glance Joel's way, he returns my expression, and we both shuffle down the hallway to Anne's office. I shut the door behind me, and feel my stomach jump into my throat when I see the opened hair coloring box laid on her desk - on top of all of the papers and folders.

"I, uh...”

Joel's eyes grow three sizes as I look at him quickly, before looking back at Anne.

"Care to explain?"

I knew Joel wasn't a liar. At all. He could never lie to anyone, including myself and mom. His cheeks would turn red, not able to look into your eyes, mouth twitching nervously.. Knowing we were both fucked if he explained, I quickly opened my mouth.

"I can explain. Joel had nothing to do with it."

Joel hissed from beside me. Anne nodded, and told Joel to return to the cashier. I watched him nod slowly, before disappearing out the door. He knows why I did it; and he's glad. It's nothing about being the stronger one, I realize, it's about helping him when he needs it. And then he can help you. It's not the sick cycle I once imagined it to be.

"I. Uh."

Running a hand through my hair, I realize that if the proof of the box wasn't enough, I'd have a big splotch of pink above my right eye - and that would be enough. It said right in my contract if I was caught stealing or undermining Waldorf Market, they'd fire me on the spot. So I lowered my head, knowing nothing I could say would fix it; and waited.

"I don't know why you did it Benji. Throwing your job away for a box of hair dye? You know the rules, so I'm going to ask you to pick your coat and your belongings up out of the employee's lounge, and leave before the authorities are involved."

"Anne, I-"

"Benji. You can leave now. The expense of the dye came out of your cheque, and the amount for this weeks work and todays will be included in Joel's cheque. Go home now."

"Home?"

Anne didn't look me in the eye, and I knew what that meant. Squeezing my eyelids shut, I pinched the bridge of my nose, and left without saying a word. None were needed. I was fired and fucked, and I knew it.

Storming out of her office, I turned the corner and noticed Joel in the hall. He was leaning against the cold wall, palms against his eyelids. I walked up to him, trying to keep my sky rocketing anger in check. His head snapped up once he realized I was in front of him, panic in his eyes.

"She fired me."

"Fuck Benj you shoulda let me...”

"Let you what? It was my hair - I have the pink, and anyways, you’re no good at lying."

"Did she...”

"Yeah. I'll have to find somewhere else to stay."

He looked torn for a moment, his eyes moving from my face, to my shoes, and back up again.

"I can go with you.."

"You fucking kidding me? You'll stay at Billy's, and I'll find somewhere else. You’re not following me around, because I know how much you like it there. Fuck, I'll resort to Karen if I need to."

He nods, and falls against my chest, right in the middle of the hallway. I wrap my arms around him, wondering how we're going to get through this now I've lost my job.

\- - -

"Thanks for letting me crash here, Paul."

"It's only a couch, Benj. Don't worry about it."

"Well thanks anyways." I chuckle, dropping my bag beside the small end table. I eye the set up, knowing I'd sat on this couch many times before while we practiced or sat around.

"No problem. I'm gonna get myself some food, want to join?"

"I'm just going to pass out. I haven't slept well lately." Lying always was a gift to me. Truth be told, I'd been sleeping like a fucking baby the past few weeks because of how everything had been going. Now I was going to be up all night, worrying about Friday and finding a new job.

"Alright. Just come upstairs if you need anything."

"I will." I reply to the back of him, watching Paul wind his way through the basement, and then disappear up the uneven wooden stairs that lead to the main house. I sighed, and fell back against the moldy smelling couch.

Making a face at it, I shake my head and kick my shoes off. All I can do is lay back against the lumpy thing, pull the quilt Paul provided me with halfway over my body; and fall asleep, cold and alone.

\- - -

Waking up to screeching microphones was not my idea of a great morning. Groaning, I threw an arm over my eyes and rolled against the couch, trying to block the sound out. The sound continued, followed by a soft "fuck", and a bump. Curiosity got the best of me. Keeping my stomach faced to the back of the couch, I tilt my head and look at whoever is messing with the band equipment.

Joel is adjusting an amp, a small frown on his face. I could hear Aaron's car outside, and Paul rolling out of bed upstairs. Rubbing my palm against my eye, I try and get rid of the sleep that had clouded over me.

"You could have woke me up better then that, you know." My voice is groggy, the sleep still etched in my throat. His head snaps to look at me; a larger then life grin on his face. I manage to sit up, flipping my feet over the side of the couch.

"Sorry. I dropped the mic and it landed too close to the amp."

"So I see."

"And plus Billy was here a second ago, 'else I would have done what I wanted to you."

Chuckling, I bend over and pull my socks and beat up chucks on, before looking back up at Joel. He's quite content on staring at me, his lips twitching up into a small smile. I manage a smile back, still half asleep, before looking back at my shoes. I hear Joel go back to 'adjusting' the equipment - even though he hasn't the smallest idea of what he's doing.

After running a hand through my hair and debating whether or not to just quickly kiss Joel good morning, I hear the garage door opening, before Aaron's preppy stance appeared in the large door. I couldn't see his face because of the direct sunlight behind him, but I knew who the fucker was. Turning my gaze back to Joel, I climb to my feet, and wait for Aaron to start adjusting his drums before I touch the small of Joel's back.

He smiles up at me, our eyes connecting, before I lean over to pick up my guitar. I hear Paul and Billy stumbling down the small set of stairs connecting the garage to the kitchen, and I physically sense them before I see their bodies heaving through the door. We're already so close already, best friends for the most part.

Only I don't use the term "best friends", because I think it should go alongside "The Pony Club". Or something.

"So let's get at least an hour in this morning. The show is tomorrow." I hear Billy, his voice sounding like he's talking to himself. I smirk, and turn to Joel. He's grinning from ear to ear, the mic clutched firmly in his grasp.

"Sounds good, Bill."

"Huh?" he looks up at me from his guitar. I smile and shake my head, turning to Paul and nodding. He starts the bass line of 'Screamer', and I nod my head along. We quickly tune up, and then launch into the full version.

Bouncing, I can't help but be happy of how far this has come in so long. Even though I'm left without a job, Mom is so close to getting back on her feet that I don't think she even needs Joel and I. I nod my head along to Joel's voice, feeling my stomach knot at the way he says some words. I'm glad that my guitar covers most of my front.

"Beneath all the pressures of when; your life became a screamer.."


	13. Under Control

Fingers moving over the strings smoothly, I try to block out the dickwad in the back of the club screaming about how much we "sucked", and needed to "get the fuck off the stage". I know its bothering Joel more than me, because his voice has cracked once, and he's not bouncing around like he does in Paul's garage.

"Hey buddy why don't you get yourself a life." I mumble into my shoulder, needing to say it. I didn't want to offend anyone - especially at one of our shows. I decided it's best to gain fans by being nice more then telling haters to 'fuck off'. Anyways, it didn't matter what he thought. Or I tried to reason with myself, at least.

I smiled at the row of girls formed at the front of the stage, jumping up and down to the music. The last chords of 'Let Me Go' echoed throughout the club. I heaved a sigh of relief, and caught Joel's eye and smiled. The only people clapping were the few girls in the front row, and a couple of drunks in the bar. Not great on the ego.

Pulling my guitar from over my head, I prop it up against an amp and start off the stage. Joel follows me, the rest of the band either already getting some water, or still onstage. I reach for a bottle of water, and immediately feel Joel's hand against the sweaty skin on my hip. I know it's his hand, because it feels just like mine.

"Are you alright?" I mumble softly, not knowing how to act appropriate around my brother. I don't think I've caught his gaze in front of anyone else in at least two weeks. I've almost forgotten what it's like to be his brother.

"Yeah. Well. As good to be expected after that." he replies. I nod, and take a long drink of my water. His hand rises to my rib, where he leaves it for a moment; and then lowers it back to his body. Forcing a small smile, I hand him the bottle, seeing as I took the last.

He smiles gratefully, blissfully unaware of anyone else around us. He takes it from my fingers, our hands brushing - it sends a shockwave of feeling up my spine. My smile grows into a grin, and I pat him on the shoulder. It's brotherly, right?

"Good job."

\- - -

"Are you sure you don't want me to come over to Paul's with you? It's so fucking cold at Billy's house." Joel murmured, his face pressed into my neck. I shifted, trying to get the toilet paper dispenser out of the middle of my back. Leave it to the Combs twins to be resorted to a fucking bathroom stall.

"Don't be stupid. I barely fit on Paul's couch without rolling off." I pause, and rake my fingers through his hair. We hear the bathroom door open, immediately quieting. Joel's face falls slightly, his eyes flickering down to his shoes. Slowly, he climbs on top of the closed toilet lid, just incase someone saw two pairs of legs in the stall. "It'll get better, Joel. I promise."

He's crying. He's fucking crying. I can't even see his face, but I can feel his tears welling up in the back of my throat. Choking me until I can feel his pain. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, wishing whoever it was would hurry up, take a piss, and leave.

"Benji I get so lonely." he whispers. His breath tickles my ear, but makes my stomach drop at the same time.

"What do you mean?"

"Why can't we tell everyone." he murmurs, more into my neck than anything else. I shake my head, and push my nose farther into his collarbone. I feel him take a deep breath, his fingers running over my back. He hiccups, unable to control the tears now. I hear a stall door slam, and someone walk out.

"You know why, Joel. Nobody would understand!"

"But Benj-"

I pull away from him, making his eyes widen in shock. Holding onto his shoulders, I try and look past his tear streaked face, red rimmed eyes...but I couldn't. He was so fragile, and I couldn't hurt him any more. I couldn't tell him the truth, couldn't tell him that we'd never be normal. Never.

"It'll get better, Joel. I promise."

He nods, and falls into my chest once more. He trusted me so much... Trusted me because I was his big brother, trusted me because he loved me so much and thought I would never lie to him. Blinking back tears that stung the back of my eyes - the saltiest, most morbid tears that I have ever felt - I tighten my grip around him, wondering how my life got to be at this point. All my twenty years I thought I wanted a wife and two kids. I guess because I never had the perfect family, I wanted to create one for myself. Now, all I wanted to do was legally love my brother.

But that would never happen, and I knew that.

I just couldn't break Joel's heart by telling him the truth.

\- - -

"Fuck, the fucking couch, so fucking hard and lumpy. Fuck, I'd rather sleep on Billy's front steps...fuck." I eye my watch. 3:24 A.M. Great way to start a Sunday morning, unable to fall asleep in the first place - mumbling obscenities to yourself.

I turn over onto my other side, pulling the blanket along with me. Lifting my hips up, trying to adjust the fucking thing. I get the best of myself; give it a sharp tug, and roll off the side of the couch - ass up on the floor.

"Fine. You fucking piece of shit, I'll sleep down here."

I eye the clock again at 4:12, my eyes saggy and my breathing soft. My face is pressed into the cheap carpet, shoulder touching ice cold cement. After debating what to do for a few moments, I slowly crawl to my feet and switch the lamp on. Why the fuck couldn't I sleep, I was tired. I knew I was.

Resting my chin in my hands, I eyed my wallet on the coffee table. I had gotten my chunk of Joel's paycheck a few days ago, never bothering to spend it. I was so used to saving it for groceries, I hadn't even thought about it.

Joel. I needed to show him how much I did love him; without destroying our lives in the first place. Fuck, if I could I would tell everyone so that I could have a normal relationship. Not have to worry about if Billy was watching or if my mother would find out. Frowning, I reached across the short distance, and took a hold of my wallet.

Tattoo is fading. Fucking thing. Sucking the tip of my finger, I rub it over the dulled ink, almost immediately it turns vibrant again; the colors of the Irish flag bright in the otherwise calm basement. Turning my attention back to my wallet, I realize exactly what I wanted. All I needed to do was pull on my shoes and go.

\- - -

"Who's Joel?"

"Someone special."

I flinch at the dull pain surrounding the upper part of my arm; my fingers idly gripping my knee.

"Black and red star?"

"Black and blue."

He nods, and I finally get enough courage to look at what he's doing. I'm such a pussy at things like these; I remember I made Joel come with me when I got my Irish flag. It was my first tattoo..didn't know what to expect. I eye the needle working over the surface of my skin, the welted red letters of "JOEL" above the outline of a star he was working on.

"What made you come get a tattoo at five in the morning, boy?"

"Inspiration?"

I hear him chuckle, and shut my eyes. The sleep has finally caught up to me, I rest my head against the back of the chair, listening to him launch into a story of how he'd gotten a tattoo for every woman he'd married - six, would be seven in two weeks.

By the time he's finished his story, he'd finished my ink. I half listen to him tell me not to remove the bandage for another five or six hours, wash it, and put hand cream on it. I nod, pay him, say thanks, and leave.

I can see the sun peaking over the roof of the high school, and realize it's almost seven in the morning. No sleep getting the best of me, I rub the palm of my hand into my eye, trying to get some of the sleep out. My arm has subsided to a dull throb, not really noticing it anymore. Joel gets to work at seven thirty. Maybe I could catch him.

Walking the well known route to Billy's house, I fall down on the curb, and wait for Joel to emerge. I don't dare go and knock on the door, knowing Anne is fully there - more disappointed in my actions then pissed off. And I would rather the whole world be pissed off at me for something I did wrong, than disappointing two or three people close to me with my actions.

Ten or fifteen minutes pass, and I almost jump when I hear the front door swing shut. Looking over my shoulder, a smile crosses my face when I see it's indeed Joel. Billy came out after him, but after waving him off and nodding to me, he went the opposite way from us, towards the high school.

"What brings you over, stranger?" Joel laughs, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I flinch when he hits my bandage, covered by a t-shirt. "What the fuck Benj?"

Laughing, I pull myself away from him and move my arm so he couldn't see it anymore. He's not sure if he should look worried I had a bandage, or pissed off that I pulled out of his embrace.

"What is it?"

"I can't show you for another eight hours."

"You got another tattoo, didn't you?"

"Fuck off!"

He laughs, and starts walking again. I smirk inwardly, knowing he thinks I've just gotten another meaningless one - another star, some cartoon...

"You can't see it until tonight. But you'll like it."

Smirking, we walk in silence until we reach the front of Waldorf Market. He looks over me quickly, telling me to get more sleep, and then starts towards the back Employees' Only door. Proud of myself for being so coy, I continue walking - set on getting to Paul's house and passing out in much needed sleep. That fucking couch wouldn't get the best of me yet.


	14. Blood

"Come on, Benj. Just let me see!"

"I can't take off the bandage for another hour, Joel."

Smirking, I rest my head against the back of Paul's living room couch, my eyes turning to look at Joel. If it wasn't for Billy asleep on the opposite couch, I'd have done just more than look at him. He was starting to get antsy now, tugging at the khaki's he hadn't bothered changing out of from work.

"Come onnn Benjiii. Benji...Benji..."

"Stop whining." I chuckle, leaning over and resting my head against his shoulder. I catch him trying to look at my bandage, and quickly pull a blanket over it.

"Come on."

"Forty minutes."

"You've always been a rebel Benj, just take it off and show me?"

"There's a difference between skipping a few classes to help you get the Bengay off your nuts, and taking a bandage off of my arm."

I feel him laughing, moving his shoulder so my head bounces off.

"Think we'll ever get enough money to buy an apartment?"

"I hope so."

He nods, thoughts of my new tattoo forgotten for the moment. We sit in comfortable silence, my head on his shoulder - when I really wanted it to be in his lap - until Billy woke up, and Paul got home from his job.

Aaron wasn't too interested in being friends with us, just playing in the band. So we saw him once every few days, the rest we spent hanging out together, or just Joel and I alone. And I liked it like that. For some reason, the garage punk band we started out of had been slowly rising to the top. Billy's parents had even paid our fee for using a studio to record a demo. It was part of his birthday present, but they had money to spare, so we would go into the studio next week following, and record a six song tape.

Hopefully it would be one more piece of the puzzle.

\- - -

"Ow. Fuck."

"What's wrong?"

"Tape got the hair on my arm."

"Oh. I thought you pulled it off or something."

"The tattoo?"

"Yeah."

"I think that's impossible, Joel."

He shrugs, and I take a quick glance at it, quite proud I got it done, and turned my body around so Joel could see it too. It was on my right arm, just above where my t-shirt normally ends. To anyone else it looked like I only had a black and blue star, but if you lifted up the fabric an inch higher, there was JOEL in cursive.

"Holy fuck, Benji!"

"Do you like it?"

I move my arm slightly, so I can look at it too. His fingers grasp the lower part of my arm, careful not to touch the irritated skin. I take a quick glance up at him, and then look at the doorway of Billy's kitchen to make sure nobody was coming.

"Wow. It's...wow. Benj, it's really nice..." he pauses, his eyes never moving from the swollen skin, "what made you do it?"

He finally let’s go, and I lower my arm back down.

"I don't know. I couldn't sleep last night, and I rolled off the couch. I noticed my flag was fading, and then thought about you, and...You know how my mind works."

Nodding, he wraps an arm around my neck, and pulls me close. I try to pull away, but realize that I don't care. I hug him tightly, feeling his hand against the back of my neck.

"Fuck Benj, I want that apartment more now then ever...”

\- - -

"I told mom about Billy's parents getting the studio."

I kick a rock down the street, feeling Joel's arm brush mine as we walked. Mid August, Waldorf wasn't so bad. I was waiting for the fall and winter to come, because I loved the cold, and snow. Call me a kid, but there's nothing better then waking up warm in your blankets on a cold winter morning, and seeing snow outside.

"What did she say?"

"She thought it was good. I didn't tell her about getting fired, though."

"I'm surprised Anne didn't."

"Oh no, she did. Which is why I didn't tell her."

Joel laughs, and we round the corner into Karen's property. I notice her car is gone. We walk in comfortable silence up to the door. Having not seen our mother for a few weeks, we finally got the initiative to walk over to Karen's and visit her. Sarah was at school, Josh three states away in college - so it would just be us. The twins, and mommy.

"She's not coming to the door, are you sure she's home?" Joel mumbled, trying to look in the windows. He couldn't see past the lace curtains, much less see if mom was home. I knocked again, turning to push the door bell. Grumbling when nothing happened, I gave the door a kick.

"Joel, the door is unlocked." I chuckle, pushing the door open. It swung open, hitting the wall behind it with a soft thump.

"Every door in Waldorf is unlocked." he whispers. Suddenly it's very eerie, the shadowed hall making it look uninviting. Normally the house was so bright. I see a strip of light under the door in the room we had slept in.

"See I told you. She's probably sleeping or something. Come on."

He nods, and we step into the foyer. I kick my shoes off quickly, shutting the door behind me out of habit. I can hear him humming to himself. I bob my head along, both of us listening to a tune only we can hear.

"Mom? We came to visit you...”

Joel pads down the hard wood floor, making his way to our mothers' room. I follow suit, stopping when we got to the door.

"Mom?"

I twist the knob, and push the door open. It creaked a few inches open, the light streaming out into the hallway. Joel pushes it with his foot, and it flies back and hits the wall. I cringe when I hear something fall off of the wall, probably some picture of a dog or something that Karen thought was 'cute'.

"She's asleep."

We both watch her sleep for a moment, her back to us. Ready to leave her alone, I turn to walk back down the hall. I wait for Joel to do what he always does - kiss her cheek and shut the door behind him. I've got my left shoe on, and then I hear Joel's frantic yelling.

"FUCK BENJI COME HERE QUICKLY! OH MY GOD MOM - OHMYGOD!"

Not realizing how quickly I moved until I was in the room, my whole body goes into shock when I see Joel overtop of our mother, clutching her face, empty pill bottle in his left hand.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

I fall down beside him, reaching to see if she has a pulse. His hands are shaking, moving over the pill bottle to read what they are. She's got a pulse, but barely. I feel the tears stinging my eyes, grabbing the bottle from Joel's hands, and pushing him up. Our minds connect better than our lips would - and he runs toward the kitchen, trying to find a phone.

"B-benzodia..zodia..zepines...mom you took sleeping pills?" I mumble, knowing exactly what a whole bottle of sleeping pills could do to a person. Not knowing what to do, I try and talk to her, "M..Mom, me, me and Joel came...I...I mean..Joel and I, you always say I have such bad grammar..." I pause and sigh, grasping her hands. They're cold and clammy and not like my mothers' hands normally are, "..Joel and I came to see..see how you were doing..."

"The ambulance is coming." he falls down beside me, staring at our mother. We were both on our knees at the side of the bed, hoping that she hadn't killed herself. She was barely breathing, her pulse wavering every now and then.

"What are we going to do, Joel?"

"If she.."

"If she dies?"

Nononononono mommy don't die mommypleasedontdie i need you..mom i love you..don't die..dontdiedontdiedontdie...momma...

\- - -

"What are you reading?"

"The only thing in hospital waiting rooms."

"Reader's Digest?"

"Yeah. Listen to this one, Benj - 'We enjoy warmth because we have been cold. We appreciate light because we have been in darkness. By the same token, we can experience joy because we have known sadness....'"

"Don't depress me anymore, Joel."

I sigh, and shift in the uncomfortable plastic chairs they've stationed us with. As far as I know, mom is having her stomach pumped. We'd been ignored since we got here, too busy thinking we were 'young punks' that didn't give a fuck about their mother. Yeah right. Young punks who are so fucking worried about their mother they've sat in the same chairs, waiting for three hours.

Another hour passes, and finally a doctor comes to talk to us - his coat blending in with the sterile white walls. I nudge Joel awake, his head on my shoulder.

"How is she?"

"She seems to be fine, now. You got to her just in time. She took an over the counter sleeping pill called Benzodiazepines, and took about half of the bottle. Fortunately, her stomach didn't get eaten away by the acids, so we could pump the medication out."

"Thank God." Joel breathes. I nod, and wait for the doctor to continue.

"But we're going to keep her in for a few nights, and then send her to the psych ward to be evaluated. Have you been going through some rough times recently? You’re her sons, right?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Well she's in observation until eight, so if you could come back tomorrow, you could see her then. We've notified Ms Karen Madden, Joshua Combs, and.." I pause as he flips the paper over, "Phillip Combs. Mr. Combs is out of town?"

My stomach knots, and I feel Joel tense beside me.

"No. Mr. Combs.., he shouldn't be on there anymore."

"Oh. Maybe there was a mix up at the office."

"Yeah. Maybe."

"Alright boys. Your mother should be fine, don't loose any sleep over it."

He forces a smile, and starts back towards where he came from. Joel breaks down when he rounded the corner - leaving us both alone in the hallway. I immediately wrap my arms around him, hugging him tight.

"How can we not worry? Our mother almost died...don't worry, boys? He can fucking...fuck himself. I hate him."

"You hate who?" I question softly, my hands rubbing his back.

"Dad."

\- - -

"Thank you for letting me stay here, Anne. I...I really appreciate it." I murmur into her shoulder. She nods into mine, and I can tell she's trying not to cry.

"Billy told me what happened. Don't you ever worry about it, Benjamin." she pauses," And I'm sorry about the.."

"I know. Thank you. I'm sorry I stole it."

I kiss her cheek, pulling away from her and starting up the stairs. Joel had gone directly to bed, his emotions shattered into pieces. I had stayed downstairs with Anne for twenty minutes, after talking with Billy and Paul. She had been close to my mom too, so I knew it affected her.

"Just call if you need anything."

Sending a grateful smile her way, I wipe my swollen eyes, and turn into the hallway. I hear her go back into the kitchen, probably to make Billy something to eat. My brain not fully functioning, I push the door to Joel's "bedroom" open, slip in, and shut it quietly behind me.

He's curled up on the bed, back facing me. I can tell he's sleeping because of his breathing pattern. Kicking my shoes off, I manage to take off everything but my boxers, and then crawl into bed beside him. I'd been so deprived of him over the past week, but all I can do is curl up behind him in the darkness, and try and fall asleep.

"Goodnight Joel...love you."

I barely hear it, but he subconsciously replies - his voice rough and laced of sleep.

"I love you too Benj. Thank you for the tattoo."


	15. Lying (Away) From You

At this point, I think I know his body more than I know my own. Fingers touching, needing, all blind in the darkness that we'd disappeared into. All I can hear is the erratic noise of our breathing, the shedding of layers of skin, and the sound of my hands bracing against the wall behind him.

The trail I'd earlier begun with my lips takes on a new path down the corner of his mouth, to his chin. I leave a warm trail with my tongue against his porcelain white skin, generating moans from deep inside his body as I hit only the places I knew of. I wandered down the muscle of his neck, running my tongue along the skin that covered it.

"God Benji..."

Nearing the hem of his shirt, I run the tips of my fingers underneath the cheap white cotton, and quickly yank it over his head. Taking the opportunity, I press my body to his, immediately feeling his excitement beneath mine. I continued my exploration, beginning a trail of small kisses from his collar bone to his stomach, pausing only to grasp his nipple in between my teeth.

This generates a soft gasp from his lips, and immediately I feel his strong fingers working through my hair, trying to push me down his torso. I smile and resist, but continue down to his belly button. I let my breath wander on it, not knowing exactly why I had so much effect on him that I made the muscles in his stomach tighten and shudder.

Leaving only a short kiss on his abdomen, I retract my attack, and slowly rise from my knees to the tips of my toes. I meet his mouth just as quickly, his needy tongue working against mine. Moaning softly as I feel him reach for my shirt, I let him raise it up and over my body, and then his hands drop to work on the fly of my pants. I pause to let him look down to unhook the button, smiling when he looks back up at me with happy eyes.

"You think they realize we're gone?"

"No. But even so, they'll never come looking for us in the janitor's closet."

He laughs softly, and I pause to run my hands through his hair. I'd had plenty of "experience" in my life, and plenty I would take back. But with every girl I had ever been with, it had been rushed and fuck-and-go. It was hard to explain and sappy all the same, but with my brother, I didn't need to rush. He had nowhere to be anytime soon, and I was happy going as slow as possible, as to remember and store away every memory I had with him.

I felt his hands slide down to my hips, then move to undo my belt. I paused for a moment, letting him unbuckle my pants and let them drop down to my ankles. His hands moved back to my hips, pulling me closer and smashing our lips back together. I groaned softly, letting my chest rumble and moan. Moving my hands quickly, I rid him of his pants and boxers, and then stepped out of my own.

Moving him backwards against the wall, I felt our groins press together, making him grind his hips against mine. He smiled softly into my lips, liking at how much control he had over me. I pressed my body into his, trying to get as much physical contact as possible. This time he groaned, running his hands over my back.

"Maybe we should...go back..."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

He grinned, and pushed my off of him. He made sure to kiss the now non-swollen portion of my arm marked in his name, before starting away from me. I managed to snake my fingers around his wrist, and pin him against the wall.

"Don't you fucking dare, brother." I murmur, pressing my lips against his collarbone. I feel him shake with laughter under me, the annoying younger sibling coming out in him as he tried to pull away.

"Sorry, I'm not turned on anymore."

I grin widely, pausing to slip two fingers into him. His whole body seizing up almost immediately, he allowed me to back him up against the wall. He sent me the most pleading look I had ever seen in my life, but I took this as an opportunity to withdraw my fingers and shrug.

"Sorry. I guess you were right. I bet Billy's tuned up already...”

Reaching for my pants, I try and forget about the painful throbbing between my legs, but I'm slammed against the wall quicker than I can blink - Joel attached to my neck.

"You fucker, fuck me you fucking..fuck..God, Benj..it.."

Dropping my pants from my clutch, I slowly turn the both of us around so he's under me. With a quick lube job from a combination of our spit, I position myself in front of him, and slowly enter his body. Immediately, his lips crash back onto mine; hands desperately grasping my back - aching for more.

I speed up my movements, my slow thrusts turning anticipated as I feel my senses heighten. All I can hear is Joel's panting in synch with mine, our hearts beating at exactly the same pace...our brains working on the same function.

Barely holding out a minute longer, I feel myself climax - Joel only one second behind me. Our bodies tighten and release, the most tender skin getting squeezed and massaged in the most erotic way imaginable. I collapse on him against the wall, our bodies sticking together - a light sheen of sweat on us both.

"I think we should..get back..and record..."

"Yeah..before they come and..look for us."

"..R...right."

\- - -

"Where were you guys?"

"I uh..Joel wanted to phone and check up on mom." I stumbled, leaning over to pick up my guitar. A hand absentmindedly checked the zipper on my pants, making sure my fly was up. Seeing it was, I turned back around to face Paul and Billy.

"Okay, never mind then. Let's get this done and over with, okay?" Aaron started behind me. I rolled my eyes at Paul, and he sent me a look of sympathy. None of us got along with Aaron, but at least they could pretend they did. My mouth always worked faster than my mind, and sometimes that put my six feet under.

"Fine. We'll do 'East Coast Anthem' first." Joel nodded at me, and adjusted the waistband of his pants. Looking away quickly, I slid the guitar strap over my shoulder and ran my fingers over the strings softly.

"I wanted to do 'Gravity Girl' first." Aaron interjected. I groaned, and heard Paul and Billy sigh.

"Aaron, can we just get this done, please? I know you don't want to be here either. The quicker we get it done, the quicker it's over with. We'll do 'East Coast Anthem', 'Screamer', then 'Let Me Go', 'Gravity Girl', and 'Can't Go On'."

I nodded alongside my brother, watching as Aaron turned back to his drums - apparently ignoring us now. Joel rolled his eyes at me, and I smirked before turning to my mic. Since our voices were pretty much identical, he sung lead - I did backup. It turned out pretty nicely.

"Okay then, 'East Coast Anthem' it is."

"Walking on the streets of D.C., on the East Coast where I live, say what’s the problem - you don't like the way I live. You don't like the way I walk or the way I talk or the way I swing my hands. You don't like the words I speak, or the thoughts I think, and I know you'll never understand.."

\- - -

"I still don't see why he has to act like such an asshole."

"Me either, but he's the only drummer in DC." I pause, and push the door open. "Waldorf."

He chuckles, nods, and then shuts the door behind him.

"Mom? Are you awake?"

"Yeah boys, come on in."

I breathe a sigh of relief, and walk to my mothers' bedside. Joel stands on the opposite side, both of us looking at our mother - wondering if this was all a bad dream.

"How was your recording session today, boys?"

"Mom?"

"Benji, I asked you a question."

"Mom, I know you did, it went fine, but I mean, are you going to tell us-"

"Joel, did Anne cancel my work schedule for the next week or so?"

I stare wide eyed at my mother, unable to comprehend why she's just flicking her attempted suicide off as though it were nothing. I felt my chest start to tighten as Joel replied with a weak 'Yeah momma, she did.'

"Aren't we gonna talk about your-"

"Benji, please." Joel pleaded, looking at me from across the bed. Mom shut her eyes slowly, taking a deep breath. My chest continued to tighten, knowing this had happened when dad had left, too. She didn't say anything, just ignored it completely. And it hurt so much, because I wondered, if I died, would she forget about me? If Joel ran away just like dad, would he even exist anymore?

"Are you just gonna forget about this mom?"

"Benj, don't start I.."

"Shut up, Joel! Momma!" I could feel the tears collecting in my throat, my eyes beginning to sting, "You can't forget about this! You can't ignore this like you did to dad! You can't ignore life by killing yourself, either!"

Tears were pouring down my face, and I could feel Joel pleading with me, trying to get me from the room. My mother was avoiding my face, averting her gaze to the window. Had she forgotten about me, already?

"MOM! LOOK AT ME! IT'S ME! BENJAMIN! BENJI!" I paused to take a shaking gasp of air, trying to attract her attention, "..Ben..It's Ben, momma..IT'S BEN!"

I was screaming now, trying to pull out of Joel's grasp. My hands reached for the metal bars of my mothers' bed, but they always slipped off just before I got a good hold. My breathing became erratic, watching her hiccup her tears away. My fingers grasp at the doorframe; knuckles turning white. Joel slips an arm around my chest and tugs me from the door, quietly shutting the door behind me.

"Bye momma," I hear him whisper, my warm forehead pressed against the cold door, "We’ll miss you."


	16. Aaron's Liquorish Nightmares

"It'll be alright, Benj. You know it will."

I nod slowly, and I feel comforted as he wraps his arms around me and then let’s go as the elevator reaches its stop. I shoot one more glance at him, before we step out into the hospital lobby.

"Billy said that this guy from a record company was at our show the other night." he says quietly, holding the door open as a pregnant lady steps through. I force a smile at her, and walk out the door before Joel lets it swing shut. We start down the hospital grounds, walking side by side.

"You forgot to tell me this how?"

"Billy told me this morning, and God Benj, think about it."

I nod, and step behind him as an older man pushing a woman in a wheelchair steps beside us. I come back to stand next to Joel as he passes, squinting my eyes in the afternoon sunlight.

"What did he say?"

"He thought we were cool, and he might come to another one of our shows."

A grin spreads across my face, and for a moment everything wrong is suddenly shook upside down and corrected. Joel returns my smile; almost mirroring it against my face. I lean over and bump our shoulders, making his grin grow wider.

"Fan fucking tastic."

We continue in silence until we walk the six blocks to Billy's house. He's in the driveway with a skate ramp set up - three guys I've never met standing beside him, boards in hand.

"Hey Bill."

"Benj, Joel."

I nod to the three guys to acknowledge them, and then turn back to Joel as we climb the steps. The door is open, letting the warm Waldorf air in. We both pause to kick our shoes off, and I let my hand linger on Joel's back a second longer than normal. The small touch sends electricity through my body, but I quickly push the feelings down - I'm much better at controlling them now.

"You’re a big fat tease, Ben." he chuckles behind me.

"Hi boys! Just in time for dinner." Anne smiles at us. I smile back, and sit down a stool - resting my elbows on the table.

"Stop the fake happiness; I've taken too much already today." I mumble, dropping my head to the table. I hear Joel begin pulling plates out, knowing we were welcomed in this house, almost like step kids.

"Was it that bad?" Sympathy laces her voice as I move slightly to let Joel set a plate down in front of me. He does three more place settings, and then brings out the cutlery. I pull my head from the table, and lean against the back of my chair.

"Are you kidding?"

Anne looks at me quickly, seeing my tear streaked face and my runny eyeliner. Her mouth turns into a frown.

"You boys know, if you need anything..."

Joel smiles at her, and reassures me. I nod, and silently agree with what Joel opens his mouth to say.

"We know, Anne. Thank you, for everything."

\- - -

"I hope he's not here tonight."

"Why?"

"I'm so fucking nervous I think I might puke."

"Understandable." Paul laughs, resting a hand on my shoulder. I grimace at him, seeing the amused look on his face. This was only my second gig, was I supposed to pull out the party hats or something?

"Billy did that record guy say what day he was coming?" Joel yells over his shoulder. Billy emerges from the small bathroom, shrugging his shoulders.

"Dunno. I met him after the show the other night and just told me he'd see us in the near future."

Joel turns back to me, the corner of his mouth curled into a small smile.

"Oh well Benj, pretend the near future is tomorrow."

"Thanks." I manage weakly. Paul, Aaron and Billy leave the room to talk to their parents, and I manage to lean against the wall. Suddenly I feel so cold and clammy...

"Benji, you are okay, right? I mean, just nerves..."

Joel appears in front of me suddenly, worry drawn across his face.

"Of course. Just nerves. That's all." I manage a weak laugh, and struggle to stand on my feet. Joel nods, not completely convinced.

"Okay. You'll let me know if it's not,...right?"

I nod again, and lean against the side of his body.

"Of course I will, Joel..of course..."

I feel my whole body go limp, the lightness fading to dark.

\- - -

Great.

I'm fucking dead.

Somebody poisoned me, and I'm dead.

I knew Anne hated me.

My slightly coherent thoughts were interrupted as my whole body retched, and I began heaving. I could feel acid brewing in my stomach, and then a hand was against my back, wondering if I was okay.

"Benj? Benj, come on..."

I try to talk, but all that comes out is gurgles. Someone sits me up, and Joel carefully raises a bottle of water to my mouth. I nod and drink a few gulps, before pulling away and wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt. I lean against the toilet I was just bent into, my breathing heavy.

"What..happened..."

"You fainted. The medic said it was just a mixture of nerves, anxiety, and heat." Joel explains, wrapping his arms around my chest, levering his arms under mine to pull me into standing position. I see Paul and Billy over his shoulder, and manage a very small smile.

"Is he fucking awake yet? The manager said if we don't get out there in ten minutes, we're fired." Aaron yelled, storming into the small mens' room. I felt Joel's chest shudder, my head falling to rest against his shoulder.

"Yeah, we're ready Aaron." Paul weakly explained.

"Benji's fine, by the way." I hear the huff in Billy's voice, and maneuver my head slightly so I can see him storming out of the bathroom. I catch Aaron's stare before he follows Billy.

"What's up his ass?" I ask into Joel's neck, watching Aaron's back. He rounds the corner, and I shift so my nose is buried against his collar bone. Joel tightens his grip, and leans his head against mine.

He shakes his head slightly, before whispering his answer.

"I dunno Benj, but you sure as fuck scared me for a second there."

"Only a second?"

Joel smiles, and quickly presses his lips to mine.

"You have no idea."

\- - -

My teeth grind together, and I know he's doing this on purpose. He's one beat behind the rest of us, trying to throw us off. He knows that tonight would be his last with us, so he's going to ruin it.

"Sorry about that folks, Aaron's running on slow today." Joel forces a laugh into his mic. I look out into the audience and see blank, dull, stares. We don't even have the screaming girls this time.

"Yeah, Aaron tends to do that. He's our drummer."

One sharp bang on his drum makes me jump again, and I can hear Billy talking to him, trying to keep his voice low.

All I can hear is the odd 'fuck off', 'fuck him', 'fuck the band'...

Turning to Joel, I strum a few chords on my guitar, and nod at him.

"Uhm, we're gonna try something..different." he explains, catching onto the melody that I'm slowly constructing. Paul slowly picks up a bass line, and we go off the top of our heads until we hear a huge crash, and the sound of Aaron's drums hitting the floor. The rest is almost in slow motion, as my head turns to see Billy shaking his head, the drums in a pile on the floor. Aaron walks off the stage, leaving the four of us alone.

"That was a first tonight." I awkwardly kid, my voice catching the microphone, "Promise it won't happen again folks. Give us a few minutes."

The boo's begin, and I force my legs to walk off the stage. I can hear Joel behind me, and see Billy's heals before me. I shove my disappointment deep down, hearing some canned music come over the club again. I sniff, and wipe a hand across my nose. All that for nothing.

None of us try to stop Aaron as he grabs his jacket and leaves through the back door. I don't know what made him do it, but all I can do is turn around and hopefully move on. Something told me that would be the last time I saw him in a while.

We all turn to face each other, knowing that it was done for tonight. Hopefully not forever, but that was definitely a blow in the nuts. Balls. Whatever.

"See you guys tomorrow." Paul mumbles, picking up his bass and sliding it into his case. We murmur goodbyes, and soon it's only Joel and I left standing five feet from the stage. We're silent, eyes trained on the wall in front of us.

"That was the worst fucking thing that could have happened."

"Yeah right. Mom dying was the worst fucking thing that could have happened. There are other drummers in Waldorf."

"Good fucking luck trying to find one."

I bite my lip at Joel's comment, reminding myself that I wasn't going to chew his head out. Shutting my eyes, I took a deep breath, and let go of my lip from between my teeth. He's watching my face as my eyes open again, his eyes full of curiosity. I knew half of him expected me to jump him right there and then, just like big brother Benjamin always did when he wanted to be right.

"Your right Joel. Your right."

\- - -

Tilting my head slightly, I rest my cheek against the cold pillow and let out a contented sigh. I feel Joel move under me, his hands reaching out and grasping at my hips. I move myself closer to him, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other hanging off of the side of the bed.

"Remember that whole summer you never let your hand hang down the side of the bed because you read that urban legend about that psycho killer that lived under that girl’s bed? Remember, he licked her hand while her dog was dead in the bath tub? During a slumber party or something?"

I listen to Joel's soft voice, retracting my hand from the side of the bed, knowing his eyes were following it. I remembered that summer all too well. I had never wanted to go back to another Scouts Camp because I was scared of those fucking urban legends the older boys had told me.

"Yeah. Remember I wouldn't let you out of a foot of my reach in the tent because I was so scared?"

"Benj, the tent was only a foot in diameter."

"But you get my point."

He moves his hand to run up my wrist, coming down to hook his fingers in between mine.

"Of course I do."

I feel the top of his head snuggle farther into my neck, and I move my own head slightly so I can kiss the top of his head.

"Remember that zip line?"

"Fuck yes. I just about screamed bloody murder when you went crashing into that rock. One, because I thought you had broken your skull, and two because I was scared dad would beat the shit out of you for falling."

I nod, and tighten my grip around him.

"Joel, what are we going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"We can't be like this forever, Joel. We'll need to grow up and get girlfriends. Mom expects marriages and kids and..and not for her two sons to be sleeping together."

"Just don't think about it."

"How can I not, Joel. You fucking involve almost every thought that flies around my head. Even if I wanted to, Joel, I couldn't hide these feelings. You know I couldn't."

"I know, Benj. Just don't think about it so hard then, okay?"

I shift, and let him roll beside me so that he can see me. Against my better judgment, I nod softly and answer.

"Okay."


	17. Last Resort

"I swear to god, Benj, if you don't stop singing that song.."

"What song?" I smile, looking across the room at him. He's standing in the doorway, dripping wet; Towel slung low on his hips, his hair matted against his skull. I could almost see the drops of water on his eyelashes. My eyes drift back down to the magazine I was reading, and I hear him breathe a sigh of relief. Before he manages to get the door shut halfway, I continue. "If you like Pina Coladas and getting caught in the rain..."

His eyes knot, and he slides the door shut behind him. I look up at him momentarily, wait for a reaction, and then look back down at my book. All I can see is those deep brown eyebrows knotted, hoods forming over his eyes the more pissed off he got.

"You know I hate it."

"If you're not into yoga..."

"B-"

"If you have half a brain.."

"Ben-"

"If you'd like making love at midnight..."

"Benji I-"

"In the dunes on the Cape..."

"Benjamin fucking Madden!"

"Then I'm the love that you've looked for..."

I grin, knowing exactly how much he hated the song. Mom used to make him dance to it. I remember. I would stand in the hall, Josh beside me as we laughed at Joel dancing for Mom's bridge friends. He was only eight, but that just made him so much more gullible.

"Yes I like Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiina Coladas.."

He's hovering over me now, as I try and concentrate on the ceiling. I know his towel is slipping down his hips, and all I want to do is reach down and yank it off. But I (barely) contain myself, and continue singing, knowing it's driving him insane. It's driving me insane, too, but at least I get the pleasure out of seeing him pissed off. I lean my head back, still singing, and throw the magazine to the floor.

"Benjiiii!"

The wind is knocked out of me as he plummets down onto my chest, making me heave. He erupts into a fit of laughter, burying his chin in the pillow beside my head. Fucking..I can barely breathe, what the fuck, what if I die..oh my god he corrupted my lungs..oh my god my brother killed me...

I finally manage to take a deep breath, but it leaves me again as Joel moves his head to stare into my eyes. I haven't seen him this happy in days. His brown eyes dancing, smile playing across his lips. If he wasn't so aroused at the moment, I might consider him innocent.

"Sorry."

Managing a small smirk, I flip the both of us over until we're on the edge of the bed, me on top of him, our bodies rocking dangerously close to the edge. He's still laughing, as he manages to pull the white sheets up and over my head. I collapse on top of him now, and feel that the towel was either abandoned or forgotten as my bare legs press against his. I grin and look up at him, seeing the content look on his face.

"Any insecurities you had last night Benj.." he pauses, and I nod. My eyes shut as I rub my cheek against his chest. "...this is it. This is how it should be. This is how it's going to be."

I nod again, and fall asleep to the sound of his breathing.

\- - -

"Can you believe it?"

"Billy I swear to god if you’re fucking with us...”

I nodded at Paul's comment, and leaned my elbows against my knees. I could feel Joel against my side, because it was natural for three people sitting this close on a couch to be this smashed together. I can't feel Paul on my other side, just Joel.

"I'm not! The guy was there, said we did well the night before, and even better without Aaron! If we go and meet with him tomorrow morning, he said he might be able to get us a small contract. It's just a Indy label, but it's better than nothing.."

I can feel a grin knotting my face up, and nod right away. My stomach jumps, and the twin connection kicks in as I feel Joel's excitement deep in the pit of my stomach. I remember once when we were still young; we had stolen one of mom's sewing needles and pricked our thumbs with it, jumping when the other felt it. I'd never felt more close to somebody than I had at that moment. It hadn't changed since.

"We'll that's fucking awesome!"

The four of us erupted into a happy conversation, for once letting our dreams get carried away with us.

"Could you imagine? We might be on a record label!"  
"I wonder if they'll pay us..."  
"Did he say he'd pay us, Billy?"  
"I don't remember, but it would make sense to, right?"  
"Maybe we can all get rich!"  
"Do you think so?"  
"I know so."

We'd parted ways from Paul's garage later that day, promising to meet the label man at a office downtown the next day at eleven in the morning. I was pretty sure Joel and I were walking on clouds the whole way to our jobs.

"Maybe we won't need jobs anymore." Joel whispered, his eyes sliding to meet mine. I grinned, and I felt it take up my whole face. There had never been a point in my life where I hadn't needed to worry about money, so this..this was something new.

"I'll be waiting on that day. I'll see you later, Joely." I bump our elbows together, smiling when I see that grin come across his face. Our mother used to call him 'Joely Moley', because of that mole on his cheek. I wait for him to say bye, before I continue walking. I'd gotten a job as a shampoo boy, and boy was it...fun.

\- - -

"So I'll leave you to it, boys."

I felt out of place in the white and silver room, my black dickies dirtying up the expensive leather chairs. I watched as Billy signed his name first, and then handed the paper over to me. I grasped at the pen, in awe of the fact that this one pen undeniably cost more then I make in a week. Signing my name on the dotted line, I slide the paper to Joel. Joel signs his name under mine, and hands it to Paul. And then that was it. We were signed to a record label.

"Welcome to Fowl Records."

Shaking Mr. Langlais hand, our new boss, I smiled, and followed my three best friends out of the conference room.

"You can pick up your cheques at the receptionists' office; it's upfront because it's what you'll live on."

Money? We get money? My eyes shoot open, and I almost lunge at the desk. Barely able to wait for the receptionist to put the last one into an envelope, I contain myself until she hands one to Billy, and then to my own shaking hand. I hold it like my life depended on it - which it does, really - and tuck it into my pocket as we all make our way from the building. I can't help but feel relieved when we get into the hallway. That was it, we had been signed now. Good Charlotte was a band. A real and true band.

I smile at Joel, stepping into the elevator and ending up between two suits. I feel uncomfortable, knowing that their gazes are penetrating my back, and resist the urge to pull the cheque out of my pocket and dance around with it - waving it in front of their noses. Smiling to myself at the very thought of doing that, I shuffle closer to Joel to allow room for three more people to get on as the elevator stops at the next floor.

Fuck, how can one building have so many floors?

Billy and Paul have disappeared into the other side of the massive compartment, leaving Joel and I mashed together in the far corner. It's not a bad thing or anything, but when you have suitcases pressed into the backs of your legs and all you can smell is expensive cologne, it gets to you. I feel Joel smile into my back, and slowly maneuver myself so I can see him. His back is mashed into the corner, body pressed up against mine. Under different circumstances, I might have been excited.

Well. I was excited now, but under different circumstances, I could have done something about it.

Fifteen floors pass, and eventually we hit the main floor, and almost shove our way through the suits. They don't acknowledge them, so I make like I'm in a mosh pit, and elbow them out of my way. Joel follows me, and moments later Billy and Paul emerge, triumphant smiles on their faces.

"Alright, on three. One, two, three."

I slide my envelope open, and almost immediately feel the blood drain from my face.

\- - -

Two weeks.

Two weeks.

Two weeks.

Two weeks, one minute.  
Two weeks.  
Two weeks.  
Two weeks.  
Two weeks, one minute, thirty seconds.

Two weeks. With one thousand dollars.

Each.

That means two weeks, with two thousand dollars.

And in that two weeks, everything had gone ass up.

Two weeks, and a few hundred miles now separated me from my old life.

Did I fucking die, and magically end up in Heaven?

"Did you load it all up?"

"Yeah, thank God Paul let us use his car."

"We could have rented a camel."

I turn to Joel, a smirk on my face. He looks thoughtful, watching me move boxes from storage to Paul's car.

"Camel?"

"Camels can carry three times their weight."

"Hi, I'm Joel, and I'm Mr. Encyclopedia." I pause, let the box drop, and look back up at him, "isn't that ants?"

He rolls his eyes and jumps up to shut the storage garage door. It slides down with ease, before he slides the lock shut, and kicks it for good measure. I watch him for another moment, before walking around to the driver’s seat and sliding in.

"Hey, who said you get to drive?"

"I'm older, therefore I get to decide. I've decided that I, “I pause to jingle the car keys dramatically,” get to drive."

"By three minutes!"

"Actually, three minutes and ten seconds. If I remember correctly."

"Oh shut up. Do you have the address?"

"Of course I have the address."

He gets in beside me, and slams the door shut. I have to force back a smile that's appearing over my lips as he crosses his arms over his chest and lets out a huff. When I don't move his eyes slide over to mine, before he cracks a smile when our eyes meet, and moves to put his seatbelt on.

"I still can't believe we get our own apartment. And still have money left to spend."

I don't say anything; simply because I don't need to. He's taken the words right out of my mouth. So I nod, and start the engine up. I guess it's the end of the Combs' twins life story, because all of a sudden..things don't look so bad.

\- - -

I think my back is going to fall off. Either that, or I'm going to fall over into a ball and wait until my muscles lock up. Damned Billy, too skinny to help, and damn Paul for having to 'go to the doctors'. I chuckle slightly, imagining Billy crushed under a box full of clothes. Heaving, I drop another box in the kitchen of our apartment, and straighten myself to wipe the sweat from my brows.

Our apartment. Ours. Not Mom and her kids..Benji and Joel's.

"Fucking five floors up my ass." The unmistakable noise of the door hitting the doorstopper and then creaking open again cloaks the sound of Joel's heavy breathing. I pop my shoulder blade quickly, before I hear Joel stumble through the door, and drop the box at his feet the same way I had.

"Don't drop it, it might break."

He rolls his eyes, and takes a swig from the water bottle sitting on the counter.

"Don't give me that shit, Benj. If I know you, and I do, you dropped your box the same way I did."

"But you’re taller then me. More impact."

I wait for it, and then there it is. That smile that makes my stomach jump out of my throat. He hates it, that little smirk he does, but I feel my knees turn to jelly whenever I see it. Just the way his eyebrows raise that one inch closer to his forehead, how his nostrils flare slightly, and how the brown in his eyes turns a shade lighter. It sent me over the deep end every time. He catches me staring, and moves back towards the door.

"Hey!" I whine, starting after him. He starts laughing, thumping down the carpeted stairs and towards the lobby. We'd been able to find a small apartment in California, where the label had rented a studio out for the band. It was more then I had expected from some small label out of DC, but I wasn't complaining. The dreams I never knew I had were coming true.

I chase him to the resident parking lot, where we collapse into a fit of hysterical thanks when we see there are no boxes left to carry upstairs. I'll return the car to Paul tomorrow. If he had come and helped us, he could have had his car back now. Joel takes his jacket out of the backseat, and I follow him back towards the door. The early September air bites at my fingers, and I pull them into my jacket for some warmth.

"California is different then DC, huh?"

I nod, and follow him back up the way we had come. Five minutes later, I fall into one of the three pieces of furniture we had: a couch. Besides a bed and kitchen table, there wasn't much else. I wasn't complaining, because we had a roof over our heads and carpet under our feet. Carpet in itself was a luxury. I was used to stepping on bent nails and stubbing my toes on loose floorboards.

"Come on lazy, help me unpack."

Turning my head, I see Joel in the middle of a sea of boxes. I smile, shake my head slightly, and shut my eyes; content at how the darkness from outside was starting to seep in the windows and blanket us.

"Oh yeah?"

Suddenly he's right beside me, his warm breath against my ear.

"Yeah." I whisper, not even knowing if he's heard me.

Then I feel his lips against mine, and know that he has.


	18. Out of Step, Minor Threat

I only let one eye open, and even then, it's only half way. I don't want this to be a dream. I see the white walls I fell asleep to the night before, and breathe a sigh of contentment. My eye opens all the way, taking in the way the light bounces off of the walls, absorbs into the cardboard boxes surrounding the bed - and still find a way to light up Joel's content face.

Truthfully, I don't think I'd ever been so literally happy as I was this morning. The way the blankets were so warm and inviting, the way I knew outside was so cold. Smiling softly, I wondered if I had fallen out of a movie. I could hear the soft thumping of rain against the window, hear the gentle hum of the refrigerator buzzing through the apartment.

And then there was Joel. So quiet, so content, curled into my side. I didn't want to move him incase he woke up, and I also didn't want my moment with serenity to end. I tightened my grip around his back, and hoped that it could be like that forever. I could tell he was slowly waking up, the way his nose pressed into my chest with more pressure as he awoke. I felt his eyelashes graze my chest as his eyes fluttered open, his fingers idly gripping my hip.

"Fuck, I thought that was all a fucking dream. Thank God." he murmured, sleep lacing his voice. I watched him with contentment as he raised his head, and wiped the sleep out of his eyes with the palm of his hand. Blinking a few times, I smiled when our eyes met. The shyness that was Joel took over him, and he bowed his head and pressed it against my chest. "Think I'll ever get used to waking up with you?"

"I don't know." I whisper softly, running a hand through his hair. It sticks in all directions, my fingers doing nothing but provoking it more. He smiles into my chest, and I can feel the slick of his teeth against my skin. I feel him shift, and then he props himself up on one elbow and pulls the covers up to his chin. I don't know if it's the darkness of his hair against the stark white of the sheets, or if it's the way his crème skin blends into them; but he radiates everything that's right in my life. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

\- - -

I watch him as he cooks pancakes. The way his back flexes when his arms move, the way his boxers slide progressively lower every time he bends over. Resting my elbows against the cool surface of the table, I let my eyes wonder of his body. I suddenly feel possessive over him. I don't know why, but with every inch of skin that gets exposed, all I can think of is that he's mine. Mine.

He feels my eyes on his back, and turns around to face me, spatula in hand.

"I can feel your eyes in the back of my skull."

I let a smile appear on my face, my lip ring catching against my tooth. Joel mirrors my smile, and then turns back to his pan to flip the pancake. I study the chipped black nail polish on my index finger nail, my concentration broken as a plate of pancakes slide into view.

"There ya go. Straight from Chef Joel's kitchen. We don't have any syrup yet, so you get butter."

"Fuck these look good." I mumble, reaching for the stack. I stick my fork through two of them and let them drop against my own plate. Joel takes two, putting them on his. I know exactly how he's going to eat them. First he'll put butter on each one, and then he'll cut them into little bits. If there was syrup he would dip them, but since there isn't, he'll stab as many as he can with one go, and shove them into his mouth.

I force a grin down as he does as predicted.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing."

He gets six squares of pancake onto one fork, and shoves it in his mouth.

"My ass. Why are you smiling?"

"I don't know." I reply honestly, beginning to eat my pancakes, "I really don't."

He smiles and shakes his head, and gets seven this time.

\- - -

"Oh, okay. No, no that's fine. Great. Did you phone..okay, alright. Okay, thanks. Thank you. We'll be in tomorrow," my ears perk up as Joel pauses, "Awesome. Thank you. Yes. No, alright. Okay. Tomorrow. Three PM. Bye. Bye."

He sets the phone back into the receiver, and turns around to face me, looking at the notepad that he just scribbled on.

"Who was that?"

I half listen, half turn my attention to the cd's I'm stacking.

"Fowl Records."

"Oh?"

"You know Epic Records?"

I pause, and skim down my stack of cd's. I pull out a Ozzy Osbourne cd. I flip it over so Joel can see the front cover.

"Sure. Oasis, Mudvayne, Ozzy Osbourne, Rage Against the Machine.."

"Apparently they were close to going under, so they hooked up with a bunch of smaller labels to pull their artists' in."

"And.."

"Fowl Records is one of them. Benji, we're signed to Epic fucking Records!"

My mouth drops open, the cd falling back into the box. Joel's face breaks into a grin, and he throws the notepad to the counter.

I try and shut my mouth, and open it again, trying to regain some speech.

Didn't work. I manage to stand up, and give Joel the biggest hug of his fucking life.

"Your shitting me, aren't you." I mumble into his collar bone. I can feel his heart beating at the same speed mine was, and knew he wasn't.

He shakes his head, now unable to form words.

"No. That was Mr. Langlais' assistant, Myra. She set up an appointment for Good Charlotte to meet in the Epic Records offices downtown tomorrow at three to discuss recording."

"Do Billy and Paul know?"

"She said she phoned them."

I can feel my eyes moistening, but force back the tears.

"Fuck, something is going to come and kick us so far up the ass..."

\- - -

So that was it. A month later, we were half way through a album that was self titled, and signed to Epic Records for at least another album. It was life. I would wake up before Joel, make coffee, and we'd be at the studio by nine. Record, lunch, record, dinner, record, sleep; and then start it all over again. Sometimes I wouldn't get to sleep because of obvious reasons, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Mom was slowly getting better. She was out of the hospital, and going to therapy three times a week. I hadn't seen Josh since he left for college, and supposedly Sarah was doing well at school. I never bothered to ask about Karen when I phoned mom Friday nights, but she told me that she had met some guy, and they'd be moving out soon.

For the first time in my life, I had a schedule, and I wasn't rebelling against it.

"Fuck."

A bowl from a hasty breakfast flew to the floor, the spoon skidding under the oven.

I felt his body fall against the surface of the table, and I fell against him.

"Why are you always on top."

His words are soft, fingers kneading at the flesh above my pants. I mumble something incoherent into his mouth, not caring if I made any sense. He didn't seem to care either, hands sliding up my back to pull my jacket over my shoulders.

"It's fucking cold."

"It's October."

"Bed."

He shakes his head, pulling me back against him every time I try and stand up.

"Mmm. Fuck, Joel, bed. I...couch?.."

I hear a soft clunking sound, and realize it's his head hitting the table every time I thrust my hips against his.

"Bed." he agrees softly, trying to sit up. I slide off of the table, but never break our embrace as we back our way towards my bedroom door. I steer him the wrong way, and we stand against the door frame for a moment. I manage to get his shirt off before we stumble into the dark bedroom, not bothering to turn any lights on.

Managing to pull away, we both rid ourselves of the last barriers between our skin. He pulls me down into the bed before I get my boxers over my hips, but I forget that as I land on top of him. This time the mattress welcomes our forms, melting to fit the both of us against it.

I feel his foot sneak between my legs, fingers pulling at the band of my boxers. I moan into his mouth as they slide down as far as his hands can reach, and then his toes raise higher, quickly pulling them down my legs in a fluid motion.

"That was dangerous."

He smiles against my neck, hands pawing at my back. Shifting slightly, I reach blindly until I feel the night stand. I manage to run my fingers down the side of the small drawers, finding the metal knob and yanking it open. My hand falls into the compartment, shuffling the books and papers back that conceal what I was looking for. My hand hits the side of the drawer and moves around until I find the tube of KY Jelly that we relied on nightly.

I don't know how I manage, but I pull back long enough to lube myself up.

"Fuck the fingers, Benj..just get.."

Nodding, I hastily throw the small tube beside us, and brace myself above Joel.

"Ready?"

"Benji if you don't fucking.."

"Ready."

I shift my hips and slowly push into him. His breath immediately hitches as I hit the familiar spot. I repeat the slow, lazy motions a few times, before I feel it start to well in the pit of my stomach. The feeling moves through my whole body as my hips speed up, his whole body shuddering under mine. I need more of him, managing to press our chests together, wrap my arms around him, as I finally feel my release approaching.

Joel is getting close too, so I reach down to help him out. He moans in pleasure, and after a few seconds, we both explode at the same time. It takes me a moment to get down from my high, but when I do I collapse against him; my breathing labored.

"Yeah." he murmurs, running his hands down my back. "that was dangerous."


	19. So Sick

"Let's do 'Festival Song'. Don, do you want to get the track set up?" I adjusted the strap across my chest, nodding at Billy's words. At the moment we were doing all of the guitar riffs and solos, so that left Joel and Paul on the other side of the glass, watching us.

Joel was making it progressively harder for me, knowing that every time he smiled or spoke all I could see was him. That was hard, because then I'd have to ask what the hell it was that we were doing. I kept blaming it on the lack of sleep I'd had the night before.

Which wasn't a total lie.

I smirk, and start up my chords after the second verse. Billy leads us into the third, the bridge, and then the last verse and chorus once again.

"Great you guys, I think we got it that time. Hey Ted," our producer paused and tilted back in his chair. Ted, who did the mastering, was bent over a keyboard. "think these are ready?"

He let the full song play back, the rough version, and a smile spread across my face. This was real. That was Joel's voice on the tape, and we were making a record. Ted nodded, and flicked a switch. The tape popped off of the mixing board, before he switched it over into another rack. He played it again, this time adding Billy's riff.

"It's perfect. Great work. How many tracks do we have left?"

"We just have to finish vocals on 'Seasons', and then all that's left is mixing." Paul answered, swinging his chair from side to side. Joel nodded, and looked at Don.

"Well good then. Did you want to do that now, or come back tomorrow?"

"It's only ten, I'll just go to it now and get it done with."

"Perfect. We can have it in editing by tomorrow morning."

Joel grinned, and stepped into the recording booth. Billy and I put our guitars away, and paused to listen to the rough version of 'Festival Song' as they prepared the studio to record 'Seasons'.

"Sounds fucking great. If I don't say so myself."

Laughing, Billy pats my shoulder and passes behind me.

"I'm going to get some food. You coming?"

"Nah, I'll wait for Joel."

He nods, and motions for Paul.

"Come on, Paul. Food."

We exchange goodbyes, and I watch as they pull their jackets on and say goodbye to Ted and Don. Joel waves them goodbye from inside the booth, and I smile at him as we catch each others' gaze.

Ten minutes later, he's got his earphones on, and I've got my feet rested on the table, watching him. I don't think he knows how perfect he is, just the way his eyes shut and his lips move make me want to shield him from life in general. It sounded cheesy and moronic, and I wasn't sure if it was the big brother thing coming out, but he was fucking perfect. He just didn't know it.

"The smell of fall is everywhere and though it seems, I just don't care, 'cause now you're gone away..."

\- - -

"Uh. I'll have the uh.." I rest my elbows against the order counter, and stare at the menu.

"We'll have two cokes, two fries, and two cheese burgers."

The pimply kid with a red visor nods, and punches the order into the machine in front of him.

"You ordered for me." I mumble, watching the kids' back as he scrambles to get his order together.

"You were taking so fucking long." he replies through a smile, reaching to pay the kid.

"Well I would have decided-"

"-on a coke, fries, and cheese burger. I know you, Benj."

"I know you do, but that's not the point. I wanted to order!"

"Fine," he gets his change back, and turns to face me. With a roll of his eyes and a wave of his hand, he continues, "next time I'll let you order, okay?"

"I will. Biotch."

I smile and reach for the tray. Joel says thank you to the kid, and we move to find a booth that isn't covered with ketchup, half eaten fries, unidentified liquids, or all of the above. We succeed in finding one in the middle of the McDonalds, right behind a overgrown plastic tree.

Falling against the plastic booth seat, I feel the cushion hiss as my body forces the air out of it. Joel slides into the seat beside me, used to the way I throw myself at inanimate objects. We divide the food, eating in silence in the middle of a fast food place at two in the morning.

"You know what?" he starts. I look at him, and he's looking at his mountain of ketchup, thoughtfully moving a greasy fry from the carton to the ketchup, and then into his mouth. I shake my head, and take a bite of my burger.

"What."

He falls deep into thought, and eats another fry.

"What, Joel."

"I don't know."

I pause, and take a gulp of my coke. He doesn't say anything else, and I study him for a moment. If I know Joel, which I do, he's deep in thought. I wait a few more seconds, studying the way his jaw moves as he chews.

"What is it, Joel."

Watching him carefully as he turns to look at me, I take another bite of my cheese burger.

"Don't you ever wonder what happened to him?"

"Yeah, I do. If I'm being honest, yeah."

He nods, and turns back to face the same way I was.

"Maybe we should phone mom tomorrow."

"Yeah. Maybe we should."

\- - -

Fucking thing.

Why can't I do it?

Hell, why can't he do it?

He's sitting closer.

I'll wait for him to do it.

"For fuck sakes Joel, pick the god damned phone up." I hiss, breaking my stare at the phone to look at my brother. He looks slightly white, unsure of how much he wanted this now it was sitting right in front of him. I soften a bit, seeing that he is genuinely worried, "do you want me to do it?"

He nods quickly, gently pushing the phone an inch closer to me. I lean forward and grab it from the table.

"Thank you Benj."

Nodding, I dial mom's number, and put it to my ear, waiting for her to pick up.

"I don't think she had to work today, did she? It's Saturday..I..hello? Hi, mom."

I force a smile into my words as I tell her about the recording we had been doing. She's gotten better, she's like mom again. Worried that her boys were wearing dirty socks and not doing their dishes. Looking at Joel, I see him sitting nervously beside me, biting the nail on his thumb. His eyes are trained on the floor, listening to what I'm saying.

"Um, hey mom? Me and Joel - Joel and I, sorry. Yes mom, I know. Mom! Joel and I were talking last night. No, I'm fine. We were talking last night, and we were just wondering..why.." I pause, knowing I might as well get it out, because no matter how I phrased it - it was still the same question. "We were wondering. Why did dad go to jail?"

Pausing, I hear her erratic breathing on the other end of the phone. I try and calm my nerves, looking over to Joel for support. Doesn't work. He's rocking back and forth slightly, his eyes beginning to fill with tears. My hand moves to touch his, and he jumps at the contact. His eyes shoot up to look at mine, his brown eyes electric with undeciphered feelings.

"Mom? Are you still there?"

Her breathing deeps, before she takes a big breath. I hear her exhale, hear Joel's soft sobs, and somehow manage to pull myself out of the situation. It was like I was watching myself, evaluating exactly what was going on. I slip back into my body when I hear my mothers' soft voice.

"Benjamin, he went to jail because he attempted to kill someone."

"Attempted?" I swallow, and see Joel visibly jump at how loud my voice was in the small apartment, "I thought you get probation for attempted. You don't go to jail unless you actually kill someone. Mom, your not telling me something."

"Your father was a bad man, Benji. He was involved in things that I'd never let you see in the darkness of night. Things I don't want to explain to my son when he's hundreds of miles away."

"Mom, I need to know." I start, the tears beginning to work there way up my throat. I can hear Joel visibly crying, but my eyes are trained ahead on the wall - blocking it all out.

"I know you do, Ben. I know."

"Then why won't you tell me?" My voice is now just a loud whisper, tears running down my cheeks.

"Benji your father traded drugs, raped women, and abused his family. He also attempted to kill his business partner, but failed miserably. He also tried to kill me, thinking I was having an affair. Your father was a twisted man, Benji. Does that answer your question?"

I let the phone drop from my grasp, the tears beginning to cascade down my cheeks. All I can hear is my mothers' voice, asking if I'm okay. All I can hear is Joel's breathing, the sound the couch makes as he stumbles to his feet, and disappears into the bedroom. The sound of my own sobbing and crying, the sound of my body overheating, my brain going defunct. I collapse back into the couch, and I do the only thing I can think to do. I cry until my throat is raw, and my eyes are swollen. I cry for the father I never really had.

\- - -

When I wake up, I can barely open my eyes because I've rubbed them raw. I can't move, my muscles turned to butter and jelly. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, my breathing labored.

He's sitting over me, and for the first time the rolls are reversed. Somehow he's moved me to our bed, somehow he's kept himself together when I fell apart.

"Joel didn't you.."

"I heard, Benj. I talked to mom. I guess I just don't feel anything on his part anymore."

Nodding, I roll over onto my side, my back facing the wall.

"I don't think I'll ever trust much of anyone again. He was my father, Joel."

"I know." he pauses, and lays down beside me, "he was my father, too."

"You would never.."

He shakes his head as soon as the words leave my mouth.

"Never, Benj. Never."


	20. The Little Things

"Holy fuck Joel, look at all the free soap!"

"Benj, it's been a year. Hotels are hotels."

"Soap, Joel! Soap!"

I emerge from the bathroom once more, not noticing him laying on the bed as I continue to poke around the hotel room. It's been a year since we'd been touring, and even one album and a music video later, I was still amazed at how the hotels could just give stuff away.

"Would stop talking about the fucking soap and come and lay down?"

"I can't, I'm still too pumped up from the show."

My skin is twitching, my hands ready to pick up my guitar and continue playing.

"Benjiii, the shows been over for an hour. It's almost one in the morning. Please?" Joel groans from the massive hotel bed. Rolling my eyes at his whining, I kick off my shoes and pad across the carpeted room into the adjoined bathroom. It was insane, the label paid for huge hotel rooms in the most expensive places, when we would be happy with a bed and maybe a free meal.

But it did get tiring. After one straight year of touring, all of the hotels began to look the same. The cream walls all blended into each other, the sheets all felt the same. The managers grinned to have a 'celebrity' in their hotel (even though the album barely reached top ten), the maids were always bitter that they never got to be manager.

Personally, I preferred the tour bus. Although I couldn't put my feelings for Joel out in the open, he could sneak into my bunk in the middle of the night, or we could just sit on the couch.

Well. I guess having a hotel four times out of the week was good for some things. Unless you were too tired to actually do anything.

I frowned at my reflection in the mirror, the pink fluff of hair still prominent over my right eye. Shifting slightly, I tipped my head backwards and studied my lip ring. Slightly disgusted at my reflection in the mirror, I straightened myself out, and yanked my shirt over my head. The lack of sleep was beginning to catch up to me now, and I could feel my bones start to feel weighed down.

Not bothering to take the gel out of my hair, or the staple piercing out of my eyebrow, I stripped down to my boxers, and shut the light off. After standing in the dark for a few moments; removing my wrist bands and dropping them beside the sink, I finally let the sleep take over my body. I managed to stumble towards the bed where Joel was half asleep underneath a pile of blankets and pillows, and slide between the covers.

My body sank into the mattress immediately, my head shaping my pillow. I laid for a moment in the complete darkness of the room, taking in everything that had happened in the short twenty four hour time span.

"Hey, Joel?"

I turn my head when I hear a grunt from Joel, and take that as my role to continue. Before I do so, I close the short space between us and rest my head against his shoulder. I feel him shift to move closer to me, feel his body against mine.

"What would happen if we got found out?"

He's silent for a few moments, his brain comprehending the question. After he shifts his body under mine, I feel his hand against my bare stomach.

"I don't know. In all honesty, Benj."

Nodding, I feel my skin fall twenty degrees colder in the November weather when his hand leaves it.

"Joel, I'm cold."

He mumbles something incoherent.

"Joel. I'm. Cold."

"Then get under the fucking covers. I'm tired."

Slightly taken aback at his comment, I stare at him for a moment, and roll over so my back is against him. He'd never been that blatantly mean before. Well. To me, at least. Normally he'd chuckle and wrap his arm around me and we'd fall asleep and I'd be happy. Even if I wasn't cold, he would take the incentive to do so. At the moment I felt like a cast off old shoe, perched on the side of the bed, afraid to move incase he snapped at me again.

"Benj."

I ignore him, pressing my head deeper into the pillow.

"Benji," he pauses, his breathing filling the gap, "I'm sorry, Ben.."

Ignoring my feelings as well, I clamp my eyes shut and drown his voice out. But I feel him shift. Half expecting his arms to wrap around my stomach, his chin in my neck, all I hear is the blankets moving. The next words are so soft and so venom filled, I'm not sure if it's a night mare come true. Maybe he's tired. Maybe I'm tired. Maybe all we need is sleep, and everything will be fine. But those words replay in my head, the way his lips had let them slip so easily.

"Fine. Goodnight."

I move my head slightly and see he's facing away from me, mirroring my movement. His breathing has evened out, and I know he's already fallen asleep. I know him that well. Forcing back a sob that wants to escape my mouth, I return to my earlier position, face pressed against the pillow. It smells like soap and it's stiff from the starch, the texture foreign to my cheeks. I want to be home again, in the comfortable bed in our apartment, with my arms wrapped around Joel's body and his skin against mine.

"Goodnight, Joel."

\- - -

When I wake up, the blankets are at my hips and the area beside me is empty. I don't throw a arm over my eyes to block out the sun, because it's dull and it's gray, rain hitting the windows with force. When my eyes move around the room, I don't see cardboard boxes filled with memories, I see suitcases that remind me of how far away from my home and my life that I've gotten.

But the cold sheets beside me slap my face the hardest; I haven't woken up alone for over a year. I'd never gone one morning without seeing him before anything else, because he was more important then any other material object that I might have at the moment. I hear the water running in the shower, and it blends in with the beats of the rain against my window.

Laying in the same position for a long moment, I don't get up until I hear him stepping out of the shower. The metallic grind of the shower curtain opening; the water dripping down from the shower head. Only then do I rub my palms into my eyes, and slowly sit up. Legs slung over the side of the bed, elbows rested against my knees, I know that I didn't get a good nights sleep.

I sit there, not moving, until he comes back into the room. We're both silent, Joel beginning to get dressed, as I sat there - my eyes in a death stare with the white carpet. I didn't know what I was feeling at the moment. Most likely - confusion.

He had been distant lately. I knew it hurt him when I wrapped my arms around girls to take pictures, signed their body parts - anything the normal celebrity would do. He didn't like to show it, but I knew it. Because I felt it. When he would talk about the 'hot girls on TV' with Paul, I would feel my stomach tighten. Knowing it's just there - it needs to be there to keep our relationship secret. But no matter how many times I try and tell myself that, sometimes I wonder if there is more to it.

"Joel?" I whisper, my own voice foreign.

I hear the zip of his duffel bag shutting before he answers.

"Yeah?"

"What are you thinking."

Not bothering to look up from my now religious spot on the carpet, I feel him sit down on the bed beside me. It scared the shit out of me that I had to ask him what he was feeling, and he knew it. Because it scared him too. My eyes rose from the carpet to meet his. They were foggy and unsure of everything around him.

That scared me even more.

"I don't think you want to know."

The lump in my throat rises as he gets up from the bed, and slips from the room. What's happening to us?

\- - -

"Five major New York radio stations picked up 'Little Things', and the tour was extended by two weeks."

I rested my chin in my hand as I listened to the label manager explain what was happening, where Good Charlotte would end up. I was only half paying attention, still thinking about what had happened one day earlier.

It hadn't gotten any better, and it was starting to eat me up inside. Joel wouldn't let me know what was wrong, and for the first time in my life I couldn't tell what he wanted to do, or what he was thinking.

Hell, I didn't even know what I was thinking.

"Benj?"

Snapping back to reality, I lock eyes with Joel. The room has cleared out, Billy over by the coffee stand getting a drink.

Looking more concerned about me then he had in a day and a half, I blink at him, not knowing what he wanted.

"We're going now,..are you alright?"

"As alright as I can be, I guess." I force a small smile, but flinch when his face stays rock hard, "Joel you need to tell me what’s wrong."

My soft plead disappears after Billy as he walks out the door.

Joel shakes his head softly, stopping to pinch the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

"Nothings wrong, Benji." he mumbles, wiping a hand over his face. I try to edge closer to him, unsure of what to do. I was still unsure of the situation, but Joel seemed sure of whatever it was that was on his mind. The only thing he wasn't sure of was how or what he was going to tell me.

"Joel. Please."

His eyes shoot up to lock with mine, the warm brown I was used to surprisingly numb.

"I said, nothings' wrong. Alright?"

I watch him storm out of the room, not bothering to shut the door after him. The hand that was going to touch him falls to my side, against the cool metal of the conference table.

"Yeah Joel. Alright."

\- - -

I can feel the bus moving under my body. I hate it. I can't sleep because of the movement; I can't sleep because Joel is above me in a different bunk. Rolling on to my side, I press my head into the pillow, and tried to imagine we were at home. In our bed.

A sharp jolt in the road rocks my body out of my dream, and I can feel my tears begin to dampen my pillow case. Was this the beginning of the end?


	21. Sleep

It had been like that, for three days. Three days that I’d wondered where I went wrong; where Joel had changed. Maybe it was because we were on the road – maybe it was because we were both too thick headed to apologize for the petty arguments and emotionless comments sent at each other. Either way, it wasn’t easy. And it hurt even more then any girlfriend I might have fought with in the past.

It didn’t help that since we had been promoting and traveling left and right I hadn’t actually gotten to spend any time with him. But it seemed like every time I reached for him; he pulled away. And he didn’t seem to care, which made my heart break all over again.

Ironic was not the word to express the situation I was in. Well, maybe, but I didn’t want to use it. Because just as Good Charlotte was taking off, something we had worked so hard at – Joel and I seemed to be falling apart. We couldn’t write songs anymore, we couldn’t say anything to each other without getting in an argument. Whether it was a small spat; or a full fledged screaming match, it didn’t make it any easier.

”I understand.”

”No you don’t.”

I paused, trying to take the words he had spoken moments ago into my head. Trying to comprehend them.

’How can you pretend were okay Benji, when everything is falling apart?’

”No. Your right, I don’t.”

Joel sighed, resting his head in his hands. I eyed him, barely moving from my position beside the bed.

”Maybe you can help me understand.”

I’m pleading now, begging and pleading for him to make me understand. But he’s like a statue. He doesn’t move from his position, sitting on the edge of the hotel room bed. Another day, another room, another fight.

I always wanted to have some normalcy in my day to day life, but now I had it – I didn’t want it so bad.

”Maybe I can’t, Benj. Maybe you need to learn it by yourself.”

”Fuck Joel! Maybe you could give me some advice on how to be so insensitive, because I really hate the feelings that I’ve got right now! Alright?” I pause, my breath heaving, “Cause fuck, Joel. You sure do an ace job at it.”

His eyes shoot up to meet mine, and I know that I’ve crossed the line. This time I don’t say I’m sorry, because I mean every word of it. My chest is heaving, my breathing labored, as I watch him. The muscles in his jaw tighten, his lips set in a thin line.

I’ve hit that exposed nerve he’s hidden somewhere in his body – and he knows it.

”I didn’t fucking try and make this hard for you, for us,.. alright?”

”Then why are you?”

”You think I like this!?”

”Well fuck Joel, I don’t know what ‘this’ is. Fucking hell, ever since we’ve been on tour you’ve pushed yourself away from me. And it scares the hell right out of me. Because – for once, in my life..” I pause, searching through the vocabulary edging at my tongue, “I don’t know shit about what’s going on with you.”

”What, does that scare you? Fuck Benji, grow up. We’re not nine years old anymore, alright? It’s not going to be us forever, because it’s..it’s.., because it can’t be.”

I feel like he’s punched me in the stomach. I brace myself against the post of the bed, and I don’t know whether I want to scream in agony or collapse on the floor in tears.

He’s silent, and for the first time, both of our sobs are racking the room. Cries of anguish and hurt that neither of us can prevent nor stop – because we’re causing it. He’s making my body rack with sobs; as I am to him. For once in our life, we were causing each other so much pain neither of us could feel anything except it.

This wasn’t the pain you felt when you lost something. Because eventually you’ll go numb, and eventually you’ll forget or accept your loss. This..this was so raw, and so deep, it wasn’t going to go anywhere. It wasn’t going to let me forget about it.

I knew that much.

”Why not forever?” I manage through my sobs, hands covering my eyes as I shrink to the floor.

”Forever is just a word full of guilt and empty promises, Benji. Forever is nothing.”

\- - -

Moving my hands to dig deep inside of my pockets, I amble through down town Los Angeles. There’s nothing like feeling as though you’ve got every place to go, with nobody there waiting for you. And that’s what I felt like now. I had left the hotel room in a fit of sobs and broken words, knowing that Joel was always the less dream filled twin. He saw things for what they were worth.

I saw things so twisted and perfect in my mind, because that’s all that I could handle. I could never handle being told the truth – that it was true. One day, we were going to have to move on and meet women, and marry them. Have kids.

Whether our hearts were in it or not, it was just something bound to happen.

Choking a sob back as I cross the crowded street, I bump shoulders with a stranger, but don’t bother to apologize. I can’t believe it had come down to this. I had cried the time I realized I loved him, and now I’m crying because I realize I can’t live without him. Crying for the memories that were almost lost behind, and crying for the memories that we never got to embrace.

Thinking about the future made my stomach knot in a million loops. What was I going to do? Was I going to be that one odd guy that never got married, the one that always hung around at his friend’s house drinking beer? I knew I would never be able to physically give my heart to anyone else – as cheesy as it sounded. It was Joel’s, and he knew that. But the fact that he didn’t seem to care made it hurt that much more.

\- - -

I don’t remember life before his name.

Sitting on the cheap swings at some small park in the middle of downtown Los Angeles, I realize this is true.

There was no Benji before there was a Joel.

For five minutes, I was just some screaming baby that was shoved to the side to make room for twin number two.

Then Joel came, and I was given life again – a warm blanket, my mothers’ arms, and my first glance at him. I’m not going to say I remember it, because I obviously don’t. But I also don’t remember ever feeling like there was life inside me before Joel. I didn’t remember a portion of my life that didn’t have Joel in it.

And the thought that the rest of my life may very well be without Joel was enough to send me running for the razor blades.

I hadn’t talked to him all day, and damned if he knew where I was.

Or so I thought.

I hadn’t thought anything as the swing chains next to me rattled. Some kid with blonde hair and blue eyes would be on it when I turned around – grass stains on her knees and loose bows knotted in her hair.

Allowing my eyes to slide and see who was now in my company, I averted my gaze just as quickly as I realized who it actually was.

It wasn’t a five year old blonde with grass stains and blue eyes. This was my other half – my twin, sitting on the swing, and looking just as lost as I felt. His eyes searched over the landscape in front of us, fingers clutching at the chains that held him to the frame of the swing set.

”I don’t know what to do, Benji.”

His words are soft, hours of not talking making his throat raw and violated. I catch my watch from the corner of my eye. 5:53 PM. Almost dinner. Almost time to start a new day.

”It’s not okay, Joel.”

He shifts, and I pause to wipe at my nose. His eyes don’t leave their position, and neither do mine. We can’t look at each other in the eyes. Because we’ll break.

”What’s not okay.”

”Forgetting about forever.”

A shaky laugh escapes through a new set of tears, and he fumbles as he tries to wipe his cheeks. One hand steadies himself on the small plank of wood as the other wipes his eyes vigorously.

”I’ll never forget about forever, Benji. You know I won’t.”

”I know I can’t.”

”Remember, we were always so..”

”..close..”

”Yeah. I remember that Benj, but..”

”Joel, whatever happens..”

”I won’t forget forever, Benji.” He pauses, and climbs up from the swing. I run a hand across my eyes, and look at his feet, “I can promise that much.”

\- - -

_”Joel, they’re fighting again.”_

_”I know Benji, it’ll be okay. I promise.”_

_”Can you come and lay with me?”_

_I jolt upright from my position on the hotel couch, my breathing hard. I’d been crying in my dream, because I could feel the wetness against my cheeks. I remember how scared I’d been that night. For our lives, and my mothers. It was sick, an eight year old boy afraid that his life or his families would be taken away by his father._

_”Do you think he’s hitting her again?”_

_”I hope not. Move over Benji, your hogging my covers.”_

_”Am not.”_

_”There. Do you think he’s going to leave this time?”_

_”I hope so. Joel?”_

_”Yeah?”_

_”Can you promise that… we’ll never hurt each other?”_

_”Promise.”_

_”Pinky promise?”_

_”Forever.”_


	22. Baby, put up a fight!

When I saw him next, it wasn’t until the morning after my dream. I had barely slept, too well aware of what was going to happen today.

I knew it, and he knew it. Our day to day basis wasn’t as it was a month ago. The jokes were no longer funny; the kisses were no longer stolen. Skin that had once ached to be touched was now revolted at the sight. It was just beginning to hurt more and more – the dulled eyes, the scowls, the “Why can’t you leave me alone” comments. They weren’t in that context, but they sure as hell were there.

Maybe he just needed some time. Maybe I needed to take some time and figure it all out. Yesterday was old, and today was brand new. Today and what I knew was coming was so bright that I needed to shield my eyes from it, run and get as far away as possible.

So that’s how it was. I rolled off of the couch a mess of tears and aching muscles, and he stumbled out of the bedroom the same way. Neither of us bothered to acknowledge each other at first, because we were so tired of the early morning fights.

The littlest things set us off. And while I wanted to put up a fight and make the love that we had found work, I also wanted to be sickeningly bitter, and just turn my back. Turn my back on him, love, and the whole fucking world.

”Benji?”

My eyes darted up from my bowl of cereal. He stood in front of me, his face soft – actually resembling Joel for a short moment. Then the light changed, and I saw all of the flaws that I hated in myself mirrored on to him.

”Not now Joel. Let me eat.”

”We can’t ignore this.”

”Ignore what, there’s nothing to ignore.”

”Would you stop being the sarcastic fuck we both know you are, and acknowledge me?”

Suddenly my head snaps up to his, and he looks taken aback for a moment before he regains his composure. I feel my heart beginning to ache, the waterfalls that want to pour from between my eyelids begin to well up – but I don’t let any of it show.

”I’m fucking acknowledging you, Joel. Now what do you want, then I can go back to eating my fucking breakfast.”

”You know what I want.”

”Would you stop with that God damn ‘twin connection’ shit, Joel? You and I both know it seems to have disappeared over these past couple of days.”

”Well maybe that’s it then. I’ll just leave, because the fucked ‘twin connection’ seems to be broken.”

”Fine.”

”Fine.”

”Fine!”

”FINE! FUCK, JOEL!”

He pauses, and slips into the chair opposite me. My cereal is soggy by now, and I know it. That just gives me one more reason to be pissed off at him. He knows that I hate soggy Corn Flakes. He knows it.

”You always liked to win, Benji.” He says softly…sadly.

Then I know it; this is the end.

”Just get it out and over with.” I mumble, dipping my head so he can’t see my tears.

”I,..I can’t, Benj.”

”Yeah well you sure as fuck almost did last night, didn’t you?”

His eyes change from the warm color I almost recognized, to a frightening shade of brown that I’d never seen before. My gaze averts from his flaring nostrils, the way his eyebrows knotted in the middle of his forehead.

"Fine. Fine. You know what, then? You know what? You’re a nut case! Benji, you’re a fucking nutcase! And I can't take this anymore, Benji. I can't help you if you can't help yourself. So just...just leave me alone. Leave me the fuck alone." He hisses.

My head shoots up – my gaze locking with him.

”How the fuck am I a nut case?” I growl.

”Have you seen yourself lately, Benji? Fucking look at you!”

I felt as though he’d not only ripped my heart out, but stabbed a knife through it; jumped on it, kicked it, punched it…

”You,..you,…you…” my breathing hitches as we catch each other in a glare, his eyes challenging mine, “You fucking bastard! How the fuck could you say that to me?”

”Stop fucking crying!” he screams, almost lunging across the table at me. I begin to cry harder – because I know why he doesn’t want me to cry. I know why he wants me to be the strong one this time. Because he can’t handle it, he can’t handle the feeling of my pain alongside his. For the first time in our lives, he can’t handle being my twin.

”After everything we’ve fucking done, it’s come down to some empty insults and broken words?” I whisper. I can taste the salty mix of my tears in my mouth. His eyes begin to overflow, the tears that had been welling up in them too much to bear now that he was in front of me.

Begging, pleading me silently to stop. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t let him win this time. For once, I was going to be the stronger one.

”You,” he pauses, and runs a hand through his hair, “you’re the one who told me you’d never leave me. You promised me forever – and I promised you right back. You said never.”

”I guess never is a long time, isn’t it.”

His mouth drops open to respond, but we’re both interrupted as Billy knocks on the door.

”Guys? You awake? We’re checking out now – come on!”

He breaks the lock between our eyes first, shifting towards the door, and then to his feet. He straightens his body, and turns his back to me.

”Yeah Bill. We’ll be there. In a second.”

Not bothering to speak any more words, he takes my last sentence along with his things. The last thing I hear is the soft click of the door shutting beside him as he joins Billy.

The last thing I feel is my heart shattering. Suddenly I wish I was a little kid again. Skinned knees were easier to fix then broken hearts.

Sighing, I grab my own bags and leave the hotel room.

\- - -

”Uhm, I think we should do um.” I bite the inside of my cheek as Billy stumbles along his words, “I think we should do..”

”Festival Song?”

Joel snorts beside me. I narrow my eyes at him, and turn my attention back to Billy.

”Yeah. Festival Song might work. What do you think, Joel?” Billy chews the end of his pencil, his eyes shifting to look at Joel. He’s sitting in a chair – arms folded defensively across his chest.

”I don’t care.”

”Would you stop being such an asshole?” I spit.

”Shut up, BENJAMIN.”

I feel my nostrils begin to flare, and quickly turn my head to Billy. He’s locked eyes with Paul, and I know they’re both going to bolt. They hate being stuck in the middle of one of our fights.

”You know what, I’m gonna go and get a drink. You guys figure it out and call me.” Mumbling my apologies, I get up from my position beside Paul, and head towards the kitchen of the bus. What an asshole.

Bending over, I rummage around the small fridge until I find a can of soda. I pull it out, and pop the tab off. I stay silent for a few moments, balancing myself against the counter as the bus hits a bump. I find myself watching Joel. It’s the back of his head – but it’s still Joel.

Shaking my head at myself, I take a swig of the carbonated drink – letting it burn my throat. I deserve all of the pain that I can inflict on myself. It was true. If you made yourself physically hurt, you couldn’t feel the emotional pain as much. It was still there, it just wasn’t as bluntly hurtful.

I feel my heart jump into my throat as Joel climbs to his feet. Half of me wishes that he’d come over here and say ‘Benji, I want to apologize…’, but the other half of me wanted him to run so far away from me that I wouldn’t be able to feel or hear or touch him ever again. Maybe if I didn’t see him, I’d forget him.

I decided that was highly unlikely.

Never bothering to acknowledge me, he walked directly past and into the small bathroom at the end of the bus. I felt a small tug at my heart – wondering if this was actually over. He should know me. In the heat of the moment, and in the most part arguments, I always said things that I later regretted.

And fuck had I done it that time.

I don’t bother waiting for him to emerge from the small closet that we called a bathroom, I dumped the rest of the Cola down the sink and headed for my bunk. Not sure if I was hearing things, I drifted off to the sound of Joel’s sobs that were contained only by a thin wall between us.

It hurt that I couldn’t protect or comfort him; but it hurt more because I knew that at this point…it wasn’t my place to do so anymore.


	23. Running

It had been twenty four hours. Twenty four hours that I had ached with every bone and muscle in my body. Twenty four hours since our last show. Twenty four hours since I’d seen him last.

I don’t think we’d ever been apart for that long our whole lives.

Sighing, I rest my head in my hands; wondering if the flight would be delayed. We were returning home after a whirlwind promotional trip for the album, but it all seemed to come up empty handed. We had fans, but not celebrity fan status yet. We had offers, but none that we wanted. Epic was ready to give up on us.

Normally I’d be more then happy to get home. Away from the hype and the gloss and everything else that was there when we were on tour; the touchy fans, the late nights, the shows hit one after another. Home to our bed - home to Joel’s arms. But now I was starting to wonder if Joel’s arms would actually be there when we arrived. Would I be stuck sleeping on that couch, too?

”Hey, you alright?”

Paul’s soft words jolt me from my thoughts. I look at him, not bothering to move in the uncomfortable airport chairs. Plastic and bright red in all of their glory.

”Yeah. I’m fine, Paul. Thanks.”

”Are you sure? Did you and Joel have a fight or something?”

”Something like that.”

Chuckling, Paul climbs off of his chair and rests his hand on my shoulder.

”Don’t worry about it Benji. If I know you and Joel, you’ll be good as ever tomorrow morning. Seems like nothing can keep you two apart; I don’t think one little fight is going to do much. Right?”

I try and convince myself that Paul is right. This is just a little fight that we can over come. But then the dreamer in me fades as I remember exactly why we weren’t together. Joel was starting to realize..maybe we would have to move on and actually grow up.

”Yeah, Paul. Thanks.”

Forcing a smile at him, I wait until he’s disappeared into the Gift Shop with Billy before I drop my head into my hands. Where the fuck was he, anyways? Sniffing back tears, I paw at my cheeks with my fingers before moving to rest on my side – hands curled under my head.

Maybe sleep was all I needed.

\- - -

”Benji, we’re going. Ben-ji..”

I slowly fall out of my dream, hitting reality with a loud thump. Lazily, my eyes focus onto Joel in front of me; and I hope that the past few days were dreams, too. Maybe we were just leaving on the tour, maybe that meant nothing.. Maybe Joel still loved me.

”Good. Your up.”

That was it.

My mouth dropped open as I watched him walk away, hand his tickets to the air assistant and disappear into the boarding hallway. Trying to collect myself, I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and climbed to my feet. All I could do was stumble over to the same assistant, hand her my identical ticket – hence the ‘Benjamin’ in place of ‘Joel’ – and walk the same footsteps that my brother had earlier.

All I can do is try and resist the urge to cry.

\- - -

It was taunting me.

Sitting on the hotel bar, screaming out my name.

The way the glass glistened in the moonlight, the amber color of the liquid inside. It was the only way I could ease my pain; it was the easy way out, but it was better then what I felt.

Loss.

Pain.

Betrayal?

Clamping my eyes shut, I pulled myself off of the bed and crossed the hotel room that seemed so much bigger and so much colder now that Joel had opted to share with Paul. Billy was stuck with me – well, at the moment he was stuck to some girl in the room next to mine, but I didn’t care. My mind was still with Joel.

I reached out for the bottle, grabbing it by its neck, and pulling it from the shelf. I inspected the label.

Benji, meet your new best friend.

Jack Daniels.

”Nice to meet you, Jack.” I mumbled, fumbling for a glass and pouring the liquid into it. Hesitating, knowing that if I did drink this, if I took one little taste of the thing I never wanted to be – it would pull me in.

I tipped my head back and drank the glass in one shot.

It burned my insides, all the way down my throat. I slammed the glass back onto the counter, waiting until the pain merged into my blood before I took another. It hurt just the same – if not more. But I took several more shots of Mr. Daniels, before stumbling backwards and collapsing on the mattress.

The last thing I saw was the red light of the digital clock, glowing 2:59, before I rolled over and shut my eyes.

\- - -

Fuck.

My head.

Fuuuck.

My eyes!

Forget about my head – my eyes are burning!

”Up you go, there you go Benj.”

”Joel?” my throat is raw and violated, and before I can comprehend anything else, I’m bent over a toilet – puking my insides out.

”Nope. Joel already left for the airport. It’s Billy.”

I heave three times, all dry and bringing nothing up but stomach bile.

”Oh. I thought you were with a girl.”

”I was. Then I came back and saw you hammered.”

”Oh.” I pause. “Thanks.”

”No problem buddy. There’s a glass of water, eh? Hurry it up – we gotta get going soon, flight for DC leaves in an hour.”

I nod, and watch as Billy looks at me once more before moving out of the bathroom – shutting the door, his thin fingers disappearing behind the knob. I’m left with a burning sensation in my throat, and the back of a hotel door.

I wonder if Billy questions why I had been drinking.

Suddenly I realize I don’t care, as my body hurls towards the porcelain once more – and everything else that hadn’t seen the light of day for a while comes back up within ten seconds.

\- - -

When I crawl through the door to my (our?) apartment almost ten hours later – after a five hour delay at the airport – I half expect to see Joel in the living room, sprawled across the couch watching television. I know he changes ‘Trading Spaces’ to the CNN Sports Network the second I walk into the room.

But I don’t see him.

I see a empty couch, a blanket heaved across the back because it had been so cold the day we had left – he had curled up with a blanket wrapped around him. Upon seeing him like this, I had taken the opportunity and pounced at him. Needless to say, ten minutes later – the blanket was no longer needed. He was warm enough.

Smiling a little bit at the memory, it shakes violently out of my head as Joel comes up behind me, banging his suitcase against the door and dropping it at my feet. I watch him, helplessly, as he slams the door behind him and drags his suitcase towards his bedroom – his actual bedroom. The one mom inspected every time she visited, the one he hadn’t slept a wink in since we’d lived here.

I didn’t even know if the bed had actually ever been made.

Holding back a sob, I march straight through to my room – and slam the door with equal vigor. As soon as I do, I hear Joel’s door open softly. Was he looking for me? I shake my head when it bangs again a moment later, and I hear Social Distortion pound through the thin wall.

The bastard stole my CD.

Wrenching my door open, I walk the few steps to his room and pound at his door. A few moments passed before he flung it open. The music hadn’t even been stopped – but it had been turned down a few notches.

”You fucking stole my CD.” I growled.

”I didn’t steal anything, the Social Distortion CD is mine. I bought it.”

”Like hell. I bought that the other day.”

”The other day we were in fucking Orlando, Benji.” He hisses, slamming the door again.

I raise my hand up to knock again, but let it drop when ‘Sick Boy’ is once again turned to it’s maximum. I turn my head so my cheek is almost pressed against the door, and eye my luggage.

I hadn’t stolen it; hell, I had paid for it. Just because I brought it home didn’t mean anything. It’s not like I stole a vase, or piece of silver cutlery. I had taken the fucking bottle that put me in what felt like a death bed this morning.

But suddenly, death by liquor didn’t sound that bad.


	24. All You Wanted

Twelve days.

Twelve days, one hour.

Twelve days, one hour, six minutes.

Twelve days, one hour, six minutes, three seconds.

Four seconds.

Another shot of Jack Daniels.

Six seconds.

Pour.

Seven seconds.

Another shot.

”Ugh fuck, my stomach. Can’t..”

Eighteen seconds and another.

I manage to down the remaining half of the bottle within three hours. My eyesight is beginning to blur, and all I can hear is the hum of the refrigerator in the next room. It had been twelve days since we’d been home. Twelve nights where I fell asleep in a cold bed – twelve mornings when I woke up with the hangover of my life. I was beginning to fall into a sick cycle. I’d wake up at one in the afternoon, roll out of bed and onto the floor. After passing out promptly, I’d jerk awake around dinner time – and head down to the liquor store for another bottle of booze. Then I’d return to my bed, and drink myself into another sleepless night.

And this was only twelve days into my new life without a twin.

But that was me. Everyone who knew me would agree – I didn’t know how to take anything in moderation. I didn’t know how to handle feeling the way I did, so I covered it up with something even worse. Alcoholism. Of course everyone thought it was just me going through the “My daddy ran away” symptoms again – but shit were they wrong.

So that was how it was. I hadn’t seen Joel or the light of day in three nights. Fuck, if he had moved out I wouldn’t have figured it out until I walked into the living room and all of the furniture was gone.

In a rare moment of sobriety, I’d decided to make myself some food. I hadn’t eaten in a few days – my body was slowly beginning to look more ragged. My bones were more noticeable, my hair was that much more dull. The pink was no longer shocking, it was just another extension of the stranger in Benji’s body.

Twelve days. Mulling the thought around my mind as I poke around the cupboards for a loaf of bread, I wonder how much longer I was going to live in hell for. Twelve years? A life time?

Fuck, twelve years without Joel was a lifetime. Who was I kidding?

I feel my breath hitch against the back of my throat as I hear the bathroom door squeak open, and the sound of Joel’s shoes on the wooden floor. I try to make my hands work, continue prodding through the cupboards looking for my earlier conquest – but all I can do is freeze in place.

Silence. I’d always been able to sit in comfortable silence with Joel, my whole life. But this silence was…eerie. He wanted to tell me something, I knew he did. But I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear it. He wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear it. I feel him step beside me, and idly I wrap my fingers around a jar of peanut butter and pull it from the cupboard.

”You look like shit, Benji.”

His words are soft, his hands moving above him to pull a glass from the cupboard. I don’t care that I look like shit, not that I ever had before. But the fact that he notices makes me have that little bit of closure. At least he wasn’t ignoring me.

”I want to be your brother again, Benj. We’re twins – we can’t survive without each other.” He glides across the kitchen floor, shoes scuffing the plastic tiles. He turns the water tap on, and fills the glass up. Not bothering to take a drink, he turns to face me – his eyes searching.

Trying to avoid looking him in the eyes, I slide the cutlery drawer open and pull a knife out. Eyeing how it glinted in the halogen lights that flooded the kitchen, I dove it into the jar of peanut butter.

”Well apparently you’re doing fine by yourself Joel.”

”What is that supposed to mean?”

”I haven’t seen you all week.”

”I’ve been busy.”

”You’ve never been so busy you couldn’t say ‘Hi Benj’ to me in one week, Joel.”

”You’ve been drinking.”

Clamping my mouth shut, I dig a little deeper into the peanut butter and then realize I have no bread. No fucking bread.

Joel takes a small sip of the water – just enough to make his lips shine, and then dumps it back into the sink. I flinch as the glass hits metal.

”I’m going on a date tonight, Benji.”

The knife slides from my grasp, and clatters against the kitchen counter. I feel like the air has been knocked out of me. Apparently twelve days meant a lot more to Joel then it did to me.

”What are you trying to do to me?” I growl, my eyes sliding to meet his. He looks lost, confused,…broken…but still sane. I don’t even know if I’m that, “what the fuck are you trying to do to me? Send me into my fucking death? I love you Joel, alright? I. fucking, love you. And now you not only fucking…dump me – dump your brother isn’t that ironic – but two weeks later your going to go and fuck some random guy? Fuck Joel…”

The words continue to slide from my mouth, the cuss words and rambles turning my cheeks a shade of red. I look at him fully now – see his eyes slide to the floor when I say ‘some random guy.’

”It’s a girl, Benj.”

”Oh well FUCK, Joel! Drive the stake another inch deeper!”

His eyes flicker to meet mine – gaze unwavering and deep.

”I’m not gay, alright Benji?”

”You’re not gay. Fuck Joel, excuse me while I laugh.”

”I’m not! Benji I am-was, I was in love with you. Alright? I love…loved, you more then anything. Love you more then a brother should,” he’s stuttering along his sentences, eyes moving anywhere but to meet mine, “but that doesn’t mean I’m gay. I’ve never felt it for anyone – any guy I mean, like I feel – felt it for you. Alright? So get the fuck off my back.”

\- - -

I had managed to get five feet in the door before I collapsed. When Joel had left to pick his date up – so had I. I told him I had a date too, some random girl I was going to fuck. I saw his face fall – I didn’t care. I ended up wondering around Los Angeles again; half drunk and half sober.

Wonders will cease when I ended up at the bar.

A whole paycheck and wasted night later, I had stumbled back home. I don’t know how I managed – after drinking at least half of the stock in the place, but somehow I ended up at home. Falling only once during the way there. I had banged up the left side of my head against the curb pretty good – but alcohol tended to numb the pain after a while.

Which was why I kept doing it.

After I kicked the door shut haphazardly, I managed to get over to the couch. Not having enough common sense to simply walk around to the cushioned side – I rolled my body over the back. Falling against the cushions, I knocked the tender side of my head against the armrest with a quiet ‘Shit.’ A louder one slipped through my lips when one of my Chucks came in contact with a lamp.

I managed to keep my eyes open until two thirty. I wonder if he fucked her. I wonder if they fell in love. I wonder if they were going to get married. Joel wanted kids. Would he have one or two. Maybe three. Joel never did anything half assed.

Rolling onto my side, I propped my head against the cushions – and passed out.

\- - -

When my eyes slid open again, I had to shield them from the early morning light. I had never bothered to shut the blinds before I left, or when I came home. And fuck was I paying for it now. Shifting uncomfortably, my blood froze when I heard the soft murmurs coming from in the hallway.

”..nice time tonight..”

”..blue eyes…soft skin…warm heart.”

”..Joel your such a gentleman..”

”..sorry...drove me home...stupid car...broke down…”

My stomach crawled when the soft sound of her giggles floated underneath the front door. Had I remembered to even shut it last night? Craning my neck – I saw it was indeed opened about an inch.

Leaving your door wide open in Los Angeles. Ace Idea, Benj.

”Alright, well I’ve gotta get back to work. Thanks for the ride – maybe I’ll call you later.”

”I’d like that.”

My eyes flew shut as the door was quietly closed.

I heard her footsteps disappearing down the hallway; Joel’s leading into his bedroom. Whoever said “Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened”, can kiss my ass. They didn’t have to live with them after; see them move on with their lives alone. Wiping a stray tear from my warm cheek, I rested my head against the couch again and slowly fell back into a light sleep.

\- - -

When I woke up again, it felt like I had been running a hundred mile marathon. I felt so drained and void of anything that was me. Looking at a clock – I noticed that barely an hour had ticked by. Great.

Then I smell them.

Pancake batter; the quiet hum of the local rock station filtering in from the kitchen.

I allow my eyes to water up as I raise myself off of the couch. I hadn’t let myself cry for a few days – wondering if I held it in; would it go away? It hadn’t. It was just there, bigger then it was when I tried to forget about it.

Moving through the small apartment, I need to see it. I needed to see the scene of comfort and everything that had been right in my life. I edged closer to the kitchen door; and felt my hangover kick me in the ass. Stomach churning, I pushed down the feeling and inched into the kitchen.

I didn’t stop until I was back at the kitchen table, fingers rested on the edge of the table.

He knows I’m here. I know he does. His humming has stopped – and for a moment I can see his weakness for the first time. He’s starting to fall apart too, starting to fall apart without me.

”I knew you were listening to us this morning.” He says softly, hands working over the oven.

”I was passed out, Joel.”

”No you weren’t.”

Sliding two pancakes onto a plate, he sets it down on the counter. With sadness on his face, he slowly reaches up into the cupboard and retrieves the syrup.

”Yes I was.”

”No. If you were passed out; I would have felt it.”

Lowering my gaze until it hit the table, I felt my stomach twirl when the plate slid in front of me.

”Do you love her?”

He’s silent, moving around the kitchen for a few moments before he answers me. I don’t touch the pancakes – afraid that if I do he’ll tell me he’s fallen madly in love with her and I’ll choke. He’ll send me to my death.

”I don’t think that’s the right question.”

My eyes move to meet his – and for the first time I can see the tears brimming on the edges. The rims of his eyes were slowly reddening; threatening to let the tears spill down his cheeks.

”What would the right question be?” I ask softly. I’m not even sure if he heard me.

”I don’t know. But I..I know that..”

”You know what..”

"I know that I hate you,” he whispered, the tears getting the best of him and spilling down his cheeks, “I hate you because all I could think about when I was kissing her was the feel of your lips on mine. All I wanted to taste was you, and when I realized exactly what I could taste, I wanted to puke my guts out right then and there. And it fucking scared me, Benji. It scared me, because I've never wanted anything so bad."


	25. I am lost in the see-thru

"I know that I hate you,” he whispered, the tears getting the best of him and spilling down his cheeks, “I hate you because all I could think about when I was kissing her was the feel of your lips on mine. All I wanted to taste was you, and when I realized exactly what I could taste, I wanted to puke my guts out right then and there. And it fucking scared me, Benji. It scared me, because I've never wanted anything so bad."

He stood in front of me, tears dripping from his chin; nostrils flaring in attempt to breathe. Normally bright brown eyes were watery and confused - but the thing that struck me most was the way he pressed his hands against the back of the chair – trying to steady himself. Normally I was that chair; holding him up with everything that I could possess.

”Why did you say you'd call her again?” I asked softly, my eyes trained on my plate of pancakes. They were undoubtedly cold – drenched in syrup, making them turn soggy. But they were better then looking at him. Because as soon as I looked at him, I'd see his eyes. The way they were so lost and broken, so unlike the cold iris' I'd grown to know the past two and a half weeks.

”What?” the word is breathy as he leans on the chair firmly – his legs wanting to bust and send him collapsing to the floor. I knew, because I felt the same way.

”Why,” I pause, trying to catch my breath. The tears are beginning to stain my cheeks, and I can also feel my nostrils flaring. Trying to get some oxygen into my blood, “did you say,” I pause again, “that you'd call her.”

”Why? Because it seemed like the appropriate thing to do.” He hisses.

”The appropriate thing to do would have been to never go out with her in the first place.”

”Don't fucking start.”

”Why not, Joel? Huh? Why not?” I jeer, my eyes shooting up to meet his. They've turned red and blood shot. Good. Now maybe he can feel it. Feel the way your heart breaks with every breath you inhale; the way you want to curl up and die. Alone. For the first time, you want to be alone. Because you couldn't be with him – who else was there to be with?

”I'm trying to fix this, Benji. Don't make it any harder.”

”Fix it? Fix it?” my words are rushed as I climb to my feet – eyes level with his. I visibly see him shrink, pulling backwards slightly. I'm too wound up to let this slide, so I continue on, “Excuse me if I'm wrong, but weren't you the one who broke it in the first place? Weren't you the one that fucking took a gun and shot a hole through my heart?-“

”-Don't say it.”

”Don't say what, Joel? Don't say for the first time in your life – you did something wrong? Joel, the twin who got straight A's and a perfect voice fucked up? Well yeah, Joel, you did. For once Benji isn't the fuck up. For once, Benji is the one who has to fix it.”

A silence falls over us, thick and uninviting. All I can hear is our rapid breathing – the squeak of his hands against the back of the chair.

”Then why don't you?” he whispers, his eyes locking on mine.

I feel my lips set into a thin line, my eyes squinting to meet his. The tears squeeze from the corners of my eyes and rush down my cheeks. I feel the drops running down my neck.

”Because for the first time, Joel – I don't want to save you.”

\- - -

”Say what's the problem…what's with this angry kid…”

Hollow words, echoing through an empty apartment. That's all I could hear. A drunken, nonsensical version of a song that I'd sung backup to many times.

Hell, it wasn't even a drunken version. A drunken version would be fucked up and slurred. These were soft words appearing from the mouth of a man that was strewn across a couch – with a bottle of alcohol clutched between his fingers. Depressed, non-musical words from the mouth of someone I didn't know anymore. Myself.

”…you don't like the way I walk, or the way I…talk…or the way I swing my hands…”

Bottle to lips – torrid liquid rushing down my throat. I can't feel anything any more.

Then I hear soft laughter. A maniacal, raging…giggle. I'm fucking laughing at myself. Laughing at what I'd become – absolutely nothing, sitting at home longing for my brother. My twin. Where the fuck was my twin, anyways?

My chuckles soon turned to loud laughter. Was I going insane, or had I already passed the limit on 'Gee, am I psycho yet?' Maybe I was just drunk. Of course I'm drunk, I've been boozing up since this morning.

What time was it, anyways?

Struggling to get to my feet, the bottle falls from its place in my lap to hit the floor. Amber liquid floods across the carpet, dripping down my legs and into a puddle at my feet. A disappointed grunt interrupts my laughter. Fuck. I'd spent my last twenty on that.

\- - -

I didn't know who I was more pissed off at.

Myself, or Billy.

”C'mon Bill, I don't have any money left. Just, listen, just go down to the…to the…to the…fuck…”

”Benji, I'm not getting you anymore beer. You're drunk already, I can tell.”

Rolling my eyes at the phone, I lower my voice a few notches.

”Listen Bill, if you just get me a bottle…I'll let you have some. I just need…”

”Are you alright, Benji? Is Joel there?”

I'm silent, looking around the apartment. Was Joel there?

”I don't know.”

”Is he in the room with you?”

”No – just, Billy please? I'll pay you back, I swear.”

”Benji, I'm not getting you any more alcohol. You're drunk already. I swear Benj, if I didn't know you I'd say you were an alcoholic.”

Silence.

”Benji?”

”Never mind Billy, I'll get it myself. Joel left some money in his room.”

Click.

\- - -

”I wouldn't have had to take it if you had been there.” I explain, walking down the dark sidewalk. The toe of my shoe catches a crack in the cement, making me stumble. “Cause Joel, I would have asked.”

Looking at the bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag clutched in my hand, I raise it to my lips and take a long drink.

”I'm not an alcoholic, though. But you know that.” I sigh, eyes sliding to the darkness beside me, “You know everything Joel. So much better then me. Billy was wrong.”

Another pause, another mouthful.

”You know I would have asked.” I pause, my eyebrows knotting.

I'd reached the apartment door already.

”Cause I'd never steal from you, Joel.”

Key in lock – twist.

”Never.”

The door doesn't open. Aggravated, I grunt and throw my body against the door. It budges slightly, giving me a bit of a crack to show I'd made some impact.

”Fucking door. Never got stuck before.”

I grasp the bottle in one hand, and smash my opposite shoulder into the wooden surface. Force makes the door pop open – it swings and hits the opposite wall. Happy with my intrusion, I stumble through the door. I remember to shut it this time.

Then I see his shoes by the door – neatly placed beside each other. A small smile crosses my lips, eyes sliding to look at his closed door. I rest my drink on the hallway table. My eyes catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror above it – and suddenly I scare myself. Dark, black rings around my eyes; hair one inch too long and messy; and a scratch from my lip to my chin from where I had fallen against the pavement a week ago.

Snapping out of my trance, I feel the dazed feeling of being drunk kick in. Crossing the living room, I rest my hand on the door knob that leads me to Joel's room – wondering if he's awake.

Suddenly I don't care.

Twisting softly, I pop this door open with more ease. How did he manage to sleep through my heaves against the front door? Shaking my head softly, I poke my head around the side of the entry and see he's left his light on. Curled up on his side, tear streaked face. Why do we do this to ourselves?

Why am I doing this to myself?

”Joel.”

Abruptly I'm across the room, eyes glued on the face of my baby brother. I hate him sometimes, with every fiber in my body. Teeth clenched together, I feel my blood begin to heat up from after effects of the alcohol. I fucking hate him.

”I hate you.” I murmur, my words barely comprehendible. “I hate you so much, Joel. I fucking do. You always make it so hard on me. I try and do the right thing, but all I can think about is how much it hurts without you. I try and let my pain dissolve into a drunken rage, but all I can think of is how I stole the money from you to buy it. All I can fucking think about is you Joel, and I hate you with every fiber in my body from it.”

I pause, slaughtering the tears that have streaked their way across my skin. I shake my hand, because the wetness that clings to my fingers feels so full of sin and immorality.

”I'm crying because all I want to do is feel our skin against each other. All I want to do is love you again. And I hate you even more, because I know that you'll never let it happen again. I know I'll never let it happen once more..”

Joel shifts, sleepily wiping a hand over his face.

”..Because I can't afford to let my heart break one more time. I'd die if I let it happen again Joel, because it won't work. It can't work.” I pause, inching back towards the door. It fucking can't.

\- - -

_I am lost in the see-thru,  
I think you lost yourself too.  
Throughout all of this confusion,  
I hope I somehow get to you._


	26. I hope you find your way, too

I can’t keep doing this to myself. I’m slowly dying. I’m dying with him, and I’m dying without him. I can no longer see myself when I look in the mirror – all I see is a shade of something that was once what was right. No matter now I angle myself, the black ink that reads ‘Joel’ glares at me.

Taunting me – ‘You made a mistake, now you’ve got to face it every day’.

Sometimes I wonder. What the fuck is the point of my existence? Is there any appeal to life now that all I can think about is how much my whole body hurts? Tired from the booze and tears, sometimes I feel like I just want to shut down.

Anyways, was there a point of a Benji without a Joel?

Every time I let my mind wonder into ‘would anyone miss me?’ all I can think about is ‘Well fuck. If I died, Joel would get hurt.’ – And then I just hate him even more.

But then it brings me back to the point – is there a reason to only have one twin standing? Not even from that point of view, but from a personal one. There wasn’t a Benji without a Joel – it’s just how it was.

If there was one person I hated more than Joel, it was myself. I was notorious for over thinking any problems I might have, known for taking the easy way out just to give myself a break. And that’s what I was doing now – I knew it. Not only by turning myself into an alcoholic (at least I wasn’t in denial), but avoiding my feelings for Joel by replacing them with forced hate.

I hadn’t even seen Joel for four nights. Fuck, how long had we been Benji (and then) Joel for? Close to two months. There hadn’t been Benji and Joel for two months.

Benji.

(And then)

Joel.

\- - -

Carefully eyeing the ringing telephone from my position under a mound of covers, I wonder if I should answer it. Would it be that girl Joel dated a month ago? Had she found his number, and was calling back to ask him out?

Was it Joel, calling to apologize?

’Benji I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened. I love you. I need you.’

I hate you.

Shutting my eyes as silence finally rests upon the room, I allow myself to relax.

Three hours with nothing to drink. I’m proud of you, Benji.

I imagine him telling me how glad he is. Happy I wasn’t an alcoholic; happy we were together. Sitting at the foot of the bed, eyes wide and a grin spread across his face. It had only been three hours – but he was pleased with me none the less.

Joel was the only one that had ever understood that three hours to me was like a lifetime to another person.

”Thank you, Joel.” I murmur, pressing my head deeper into the pillow. For a second I can feel the mattress cave beside me – and I almost feel his arms encircle my waist, asking if I was okay.

’Why don’t you fix it, Benj…pick up the phone.’

I’ve gone fucking insane. My head shoots to look at the empty space beside me, eyes growing two sizes wider. I was insane…imagining Joel beside me. My fucking twin took me to the brink of insanity and left me there.

Well, thirty three days inside a dark apartment never did anybody any good either.

The phone rings again - close to its second hour in doing so. Whoever was on the other line obviously had something to tell me. The ironic thing was, suddenly I didn’t care.

’I love you, I need you.’

I hate you, my mind argues. Sitting up, I balance myself against the mattress and reach across the short distance from my bed to the table. Blindly grasping for the phone, I drag it from the surface and into the space beside me.

”Hello?”

”Benji, what the fuck took you so long?”

”God damn Billy, I was trying to sleep.”

”Sorry. I was just worried about you.”

”I’m fine.”

Silence.

”Benj, what’s up. You’ve been different – fuck, I haven’t even seen you. The only time you contact me was to ask for booze.” A deathly pause, a sharp intake of breath. “Even Joel thinks so.”

”Joel?”

”He’s been over here for three nights, Benji. He’s sleeping in you guys’ old room upstairs.”

”Then I think Joel has the problem – not me.”

Billy let a sigh slip from his mouth. Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I take the phone from the nightstand and lay back against my pillows.

”I just thought you should know, is all.”

”Well then thanks for telling me. But you can tell Joel I don’t care.”

”No I can’t.” he sighs. I see him perched on one of the wooden chairs in Anne’s kitchen, virtually balancing himself on the two back legs. Feet against the table – I almost wait for Anne’s yells to get his dirty shoes off of her clean table top.

Lying back against the pillow, I wait for him to continue. He doesn’t.

”Why the fuck not?” I huff.

”Do you want me to fucking kill him or something?”

”….No…”

”Then I’m not saying his own twin hates him.”

”Dislikes, can’t stand, nauseates…whatever.”

”Fuck, Benj. What the hell is up with you?”

”Nothing, Bill. I gotta go. Bye.”

I carefully replace the phone back onto the table, and lay back into the pillows. I smell Joel on them.

’Why do you do this to yourself Benj…just pick up the phone.’

I hate you, that’s why. I fucking hate you.

\- - -

Hot water on cold skin, clean soap on dirty surfaces.

Happy memories against depressing reality.

If I shut my eyes, I can see his image burned into the backs of my eyelids. If I wasn’t allowed to love him anywhere else; if I didn’t allow myself to love him – then this would be the only way I would let it happen. This would be the only way I could let it happen.

A soft moan escapes my lips, the muscles in my body tensing as I imagine him. He’s there, standing right beside me. Water running from the shower, onto his head, dripping down his face…eye lashes stuck together in clumps, soft smile…

Body moving towards mine; suddenly I can feel skin on skin. Heated flesh on mine – hands roaming and grasping at something that hadn’t been touched for too long. Shifting, I feel the blistering heat of the water on my back.

”Fuck…Joel…”

He’s back at eye level, a smile playing across his features. He knows what he does to me.. He wouldn’t have it any other way. Eyelids screwing shut, I feel my head press against the wall of the shower stall – lungs aching for fresh air. I can’t breathe, the way he touches me..

I can feel it building up inside my stomach, aching and clawing to get out.

”Faster.. A little bit… faster...” a deep groan, “oh fuck, oh fuck…”

It’s hovering above me – the release I need so desperately. Hands moving faster, teasing to the point of extreme; I can’t hold out any longer. I feel my body twitch as the last string I was hanging by breaks, and I throw myself into a pool of carnal intensity.

Breathing labored, legs turned to jelly, my eyes slide open.

Clean, plain, shower curtain.

No Joel, no passionate embraces… just my own hand for company.

”Fuck, Joel…” I bite my words as I bend over to turn the water off, “I miss you.”

Straightening myself, I manage to yank the plastic curtain open. The metallic scrape of the rings against the bar fills the room as I climb out. Reaching for the nearest towel; I wrap it around my waist, and take a good and long look at the porcelain embrace I was just in.

”No Benji without a Joel,” I whisper into the small room. Shaking my head softly, I let that thought run through my mind before I shut the door behind me.

One more run to the liquor store wouldn’t hurt.

\- - -

_You can’t change the way you feel,  
But you can’t tell me this ain’t real.  
Cause this is real – in the end it’s all I’ve got,  
So I’m gonna hold on._


	27. My Bloody Valentine

Until this point, the hardest things I'd ever had to face in my life seemed to be so small and unimportant now. My father leaving, my mother attempting suicide…I found the issues so stunted and trivial.

This was without a doubt, the most awkward and hard thing I'd ever had to put myself through. Not because I had to face him, but because I had to watch the way he moved, watch the way he never looked at me. And then I had to go home alone, pretending that he was still mine. Undress myself and stand in front of the mirror – squinting my eyes and trying to see past my tattoos and pink hair for a small portion of what had once been Joel.

But the worst part about it - was that I knew that he wasn't mine anymore.

Fingers running over the strings of my guitar, I try and focus myself into the song I was supposed to be singing. But I couldn't. Because they were our words – not mine. I had no right in singing our words, when he did such a better job at it.

I'd never be the same without him. I knew it – fuck, he even knew it. I was fucking helpless without my twin. I'd been helpless without him since day one. I remember my mothers' words to my grade one teacher. Joel and I had been standing two feet away, looking at our shoes. We had never wanted to play with the other kids – just wanted to sit in the corner of the room and be alone.

Apparently the teacher didn't like our social skills, and called our mother in for 'guidance'.

'Benji doesn't know how to tie his shoes, so Joel is always there incase one of the laces come undone.'  
'Joel needs Benji to open his juice container. He doesn't know how to work the air lock.'  
'They need each other because they're twins. You can't split them up because they're close.'

We had stood to the side, listening to our supposable elders 'discuss' the situation we had gotten ourselves into. Fuck, I remember – to this day – leaning over, and whispering in Joel's ear.

”Don't worry Joel, they'll never split us up. I won't let them.”

They never had. The fucking ironic thing about it was that we had allowed ourselves to.

And that made it hurt even more.

\- - -

”You alright Benji?”

I jolt out of my trance, eyes shooting up into icy blue gray ones.

”I'm fine Bill. Just leave me alone.”

He sighs, and perches himself on the arm rest of the couch I was sitting on. Grumbling, I rest my elbows on my knees and let my gaze wonder across the room. Joel is getting a can of soda from the vending machine. I watch him for a few moments – putting the coins in, punching in the number of the drink he wants (I know it'll be D34 – general can of Coke.), waiting a few moments as it spits the aluminum at his feet.

”I don't know what's up with you two Benji…but he's getting worse.”

I rip my gaze away from Joel to look up at Billy. He's followed my gaze and is contently watching my twin. His eyes flicker to meet mine, and I'm sure there's confusion written all over my skin.

”I told you before Billy, I don't care.” I grumble, words meaning nothing more then the empty water bottle clutched in my hands.

”Yeah Benji, you do. As much as you don't want to…”

”No I don't.”

He slides to sit next to me – eyes now level with mine.

”I'm only gonna tell you this once Benj, and you can take it however you like. I don't know what is the current status of yourself, but Joel is falling apart.” He pauses, wiping a wisp of the blonde hair from his forehead. He casts one more look at Joel as he retreats from the room before looking back at me, “I saw you onstage tonight Benj. I saw you were willing yourself not to cry. You know how I know?”

I offer a small shake of my head, feeling defeated. Billy has always been too good with words.

”Because Joel was the same way. When he showed up on our doorstep a week ago, he looked just as you do now. Trying to keep up the tough front, trying to be a rock. But over the week Benji, he broke down. And I can tell that is what will happen to you if you don't face your feelings.”

”I'm fine, Bill. Don't play Mr. Psychotherapist on me, alright?”

He sighs, climbing back onto his feet. My gaze sweeps the room before landing at my feet.

”Fine, Benj. But if you need anything.”

”Yeah Billy. Thanks.”

Nodding, he grabs his jacket from the coat hooks, and starts towards the door.

”You better get a move on Benji, you've got some people outside wanting an autograph.”

I wave him off, waiting a few minutes before I climb to my feet. So Joel was falling apart…good. Maybe he'd feel some pain on my behalf now, maybe he'll miss me so much I can drive him to his own insanity.

Sighing, I take a quick look in the mirror before ducking into the hall of the venue. I see Billy talking to a fan, almost yelling over the music that the act we're supporting is playing on the stage.

He smiles and poses for a picture with her.

”Benji! Benji!”

Allowing myself to fall into a state of nothing, I mindlessly sign autographs and pose for pictures until we can retreat back to our actual lives. The label had decided to start promoting us again, giving the band a opening before one of the bigger acts they carried. Fuck, I don't think I even knew the name of the band that we're opening for.

I pose for another picture.

”Benji! Joel! Can I have a picture?”

My head shoots up to see a fan grinning and motioning for the two of us to take a picture with her. I eye Joel's deer in the headlights look, before shrugging and moving to stay on one side of her. I cast my eyes to the floor and wait until Joel is on the opposite side of her, and her friend is in front of us – giggling profusely and trying to work the instamatic camera.

A few moments pass – a bright light, and then they disappear back into the crowd, shouting for Paul. I awkwardly turn to face my other half, unsure of how to present myself.

On one hand, I could just turn away and walk out of his life again. On the other hand, I could try and have a semi normal conversation with him. It was a oddly disturbing hard decision.

”How are you?”

My eyes widen at his question. The fucking question that's full of old girlfriends and ex lovers. It was the question you ask when you have nothing more to say. When all you wanted to do was simply fill silence.

He realizes my thoughts, offering only a weak smile.

”As well as expected I guess.”

”Oh. Yeah. Me too.”

I nod.

”Good show.”

”Don't fucking lie to me, Joel.”

His lips tighten, forming a straight line.

”I know. I couldn't do it either.”

Offering a weak smile, I look at him once more.

”It wasn't supposed to be this hard.”

This time his lips curl into a sad smile, full of 'what could have been'.

”Nothing ever is.”

\- - -

Walking up the aisles of a nameless Los Angeles grocery store, I weave through the aisles. I add random objects, knowing that in all reality I only came for one item.

Bread, milk, tabloid magazine… Joel would need all those.

”That'll be $8.64, kid.”

I hand him my last twenty.

”Thanks.” I mumble, grabbing the plastic bag and heading back out into the night.

The darkness of the street is oddly comforting as I make my way back to the apartment. I'm not sure if it's ours anymore, but I don't want to call it mine.

Bread goes on the counter, milk in the fridge… I don't know where to put the magazine, so I leave it on the table.

Clutching the plastic bag in my hand, I kick off my shoes and hang my coat up before I head into the bathroom. I close the door behind me, clicking it tightly shut. Nobody was home, why bother locking it?

Moving my hand to hit the light switch, I wait until the small room has been flooded with halogen lights before I move to sit down on the closed toilet seat.

With shaky hands, I pull the last item out of the plastic shopping bag. I haphazardly toss the bag onto the counter beside the sink, and clutch the package between my fingers.

I awkwardly undo it's wrapping, pulling at the safety seals and hissing when I receive a paper cut. Moments later, all that's left is the disposed wrapper on the floor and the shiny metal clutched between my thumb and pointer fingers.

Eyeing the glinting metal in the light, I twist my hand so that it catches the radiating light bulb. It's morbidly beautiful. Shutting my eyes softly, I pull at my left sleeve – raising the fabric up my arm. Not bothering to wait another moment, I lower the razor blade to my skin.


	28. I Can Save You

With shaky hands, I pull the last item out of the plastic shopping bag. I haphazardly toss the bag onto the counter beside the sink, and clutch the package between my fingers.

I awkwardly undo its wrapping, pulling at the safety seals and hissing when I receive a paper cut. Moments later, all that's left is the disposed wrapper on the floor and the shiny metal clutched between my thumb and pointer fingers.

Eyeing the glinting metal in the light, I twist my hand so that it catches the radiating light bulb. It's morbidly beautiful. Shutting my eyes softly, I pull at my left sleeve – raising the fabric up my arm. Not bothering to wait another moment, I lower the razor blade to my skin.

At first all I receive is a dull feeling of affliction coursing through the muscle in my lower arm. The more pressure I apply to the thin piece of metal that would most likely send me to my death, the more real it feels. I've only made one long slice from one side of my arm to the other. Not deep enough to catch a vein or a main artery – but enough to make me feel real again.

I slowly drag the razor blade through my skin, lazily making a 'J'. I'm not going to write his whole name, I'm too much of a chicken shit. I will make sure he knows though, I'm sure of that. What I wasn't sure of why exactly I was doing this to myself – why I was tunneling myself further into the darkness, instead of just going up to him and telling him how much I love him.

Somehow this idea seemed that much better.

Not realizing how dizzy and feeble I felt, I watched the razor slip from between my fingers. It was almost in slow motion, as it fell to my leg, and slid off. Landing beside the white bathtub, it was a stark contrast – red on white. Blood red on chalky white.

The sound of the front door slamming jolted me out of my trancelike state, and that was when I really began to feel the pain. Every time I moved, my flesh would be ripped open again. Scrambling to reach for something to cover my arm, I grasped onto Joel's sandy colored bath towel and ripped it from the rack.

It still smelled like his soap, a month after he hadn't even touched it.

Wrapping it around my arm, I hissed in pain when I tore my wound open again. I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks, unsure of whether they were because I was in pain or because I was emotionally torturing myself. I slowly crawled off of the floor – even though I didn't remember sliding from the toilet lid.

”Benji, are you home?”

I froze.

I fucking froze, knees bent – halfway back into a standing position. Joel.

Panicking, all I managed to do was get to my feet before the door flew open. And then there was Joel, standing in front of me, tears streaked down his face.

”D-don't say anything, Benji. I need to tell you something.”

Managing to nod my head, I leaned against the sink. I could feel the blood – my blood – soaking into the towel. Did he notice it yet? I sure as fuck noticed - I was just about ready to pass out because I could feel how weak my body was.

”W-what the fuck did you do Benji?”

Eyes flying up to catch his, I know fear and astonishment is written all over my face.

He noticed?

”What the fuck Benji!? What did you fucking do?”

Slowly, I unwrapped the towel from around my arm, cringing as the fabric caught the skin that was beginning to heal. I could feel the scabs that had slowly started forming being ripped off.

I felt physically ill when I saw how much blood I had lost. It was soaked – everywhere. I'm sure Joel noticed too. When I looked up to see his reaction – he was frozen. His tears had stopped, but his face was a ghostly shade of white.

My fingers tightened on the edge of the sink, worried I was going to fall over.

”This…this is your blood, Joel.” I breathed, pausing to catch my breath, “This is yours.”

”N-no it's not…”

Breathing heavily, I felt the tears slip down my face as I shrunk to the ground. My legs couldn't hold my weight up anymore, fuck, I could barely think straight at the moment.

”Yes it is…this is yours…”

I'm not sure how long we stayed that way for, me in a crumpled mess on the floor, Joel standing barely inside the door frame. My eyes slid up to see where he stood, he face a mess of tears and blotches – pressed against the wall. It was like time just stood still.

My breathing began to slow, and I wondered exactly how much blood I had lost.

”I can't do this, Benji.” He breathed, his voice forced.

”Can't…do what?”

”I can't…I'm not going to be able to save you forever.”

”Joel…” I pause, feeling the bile begin to rise in my throat as he started sobbing, “…I'm…I'm so scared to be with you…” another pause, “but I'm so much more afraid to be without you.”

His cries got louder.

I felt my eyes slide shut, although I was still awake and able to comprehend everything around me, I was just so tired. I heard him moving around in the doorway.

”I'm sorry Benji.”

\- - -

When I woke up, I felt drained and unlike myself. Abnormal, even.

”Thank god. We were worried about you, Benji.”

My head falls to the side, the muscles in my neck too weak to support it. I see Paul standing just outside the door, Billy on the right side of my bed, and a nurse on the other. She adjusts the IV in my hand, and wraps a blood pressure cuff around my upper arm.

”W-what..”

”Joel phoned me.”

”Oh.”

I shut my eyes again, resting my head against the uncomfortable pillow. It feels like its stuffed with bricks and rubber foam.

”I'm sorry guys, visiting hours are over. Mister Madden needs his rest.”

I hear the nurses' voice float through the room, still too drained to do much about it.

”Okay, we'll see you tomorrow Benj.”

Managing a weak nod, I hiss in pain as the nurse lifts my arm to change my bandages.

”That's some work you did on yourself, Mister Madden.”

”Benji.” I mumble, cracking my eyes open to see her. They immediately fall shut as I catch a glimpse of the bloody limb engraved with a haphazard 'J'.

”Benji.”

”What are they going to do with me?”

”Well, they'll have some therapists come and check you over when you're feeling up to it. But that's not really my place to say. Are you feeling better?”

”Physically or emotionally?”

She smiles at me, a warm smile that I haven't seen for a while. A warm smile I'd only seen from one person my whole life.

”At the moment, physically.”

”Not too good. Better, though. Thank you.”

Nodding, she finishes off my bandage, and leans over to shut the light off above my bed.

”Alright. You need to go back to sleep. I'll see you in the morning, okay?”

”Okay.”

She's halfway through the door when I open my mouth to speak.

”Thank you.”

\- - -

I'd been stuck in the same, white room for three days. Three days they'd thought I was insane, three days since I'd seen anything more then nurses and stark objects.

Three days since I'd seen him.

”At least your alive, Ben. You gave us all a shock when Paul phoned us.”

”I know mama.”

My eyes cast to the floor, wondering how my mother had grown so strong over a year – and I had somehow been left behind.

”I'm sorry. You know…”

”I know, Benji. I won't question it.”

Nodding, I allowed myself to look at her again. She was so strong, I didn't know how she did it. After a year of hell, and a attempted suicide on her own behalf, she was right back where she should have been all along. On top.

”Do you want me to push you back to your room?”

”No, it's alright. I'll get a nurse to help me.”

”Alright. Well my flight leaves in a few hours, I love you Benji. We all do.”

”I know. Thank you, mama.”

I waited until she'd wrapped her arms around me, kissed my cheek, and left before I had allowed the tears in my eyes to well. What a fucking life I had built for myself. Stuck in the teenage ward of the mental wing of the Los Angeles Hospital.

Shaking my head, I let the nurse push me through the blank hallways until we reach my room. After helping me from wheel chair to bed, she handed me the emergency call button and a glass of Ginger Ale.

”I'm not really crazy.”

Looking up from the IV she was changing, a small smile spreads across her face.

”I know. We're all allowed to loose touch with life once in a while. Don't worry about it Benji, you'll be fine.”

And then she was gone.


	29. Good Enough

”Let me fucking at him!”

”Sir, I can assure you that as soon as the visiting hours begin, we can grant you access.”

”Access? What the fuck, He's my twin - he needs me!”

”Mister Madden, if you'll just have a seat…”

”I'm the longest thing he's owned, we need to - BENJI!”

I pretend to ignore him.

”You could have saved me.” I mumble, tracing random shapes and letters into my blanket. I ignore the way he tries to get past the security guards they've called in.

Just wait five minutes Joel, and it'll be nine a.m.

Nine a.m. means visitors are permitted.

But I guess that since you've been here since seven, you don't really care any more.

Five minutes, Joel.

I had to live in the world for five minutes without a twin, without half of my world. Now you can wait five minutes until you see me. Fuck, it's been two weeks. What the hell is five more minutes?

”You could have fucking saved me.”

\- - -

Five minutes.

The longest three hundred single seconds of my life.

Five minutes I had to sit through his screams, sit through his crying.

All contained by one hospital wall.

But then there he was, red and tear streaked face appearing in my door – security guards eyeing him from behind.

My twin, my baby brother.

The person that captivated most of the love in my heart – the person who drew most of the hate.

We didn't say anything for a long second. My eyes drew from his, and slid to the window beside my bed. I eyed the wet environment, soggy in the October morning.

”I..I had everything I wanted to say…but…”

He starts off, but my eyes shoot to meet his before he gets anything else out.

”This is your fault.”

His face shows confusion for a moment.

”How is this my fault?”

”You could have saved me. You could have fucking saved me!”

”How can I save you when you can't even save yourself?”

”Don't give me that bullshit. You know that I'd fucking kill myself if it meant you'd be alright.”

”Well apparently you'd kill yourself for a lot less.” He spat.

”You're just scared. You're scared because you don't want to know what a Joel is like without a Benji."

"How can you say that? How can you say that I'm scared? You tried to kill yourself Benji. You tried to end your world because I wasn't in it."

I could feel the tears beginning to well up behind my eyes. Through all of the psychotherapists' sessions, through all of the hurt and the pain, and the betrayal, I'd never let myself cry. Somehow, every time – Joel managed to say the right things. The right things that made my heart sink and the bile rise in my throat. Because he felt it too, he felt how it was like.

"You think I tried to kill myself because you don't love me anymore? Don't flatter yourself, Joel." I whispered, my eyes boring deeply into his. His jaw shifted, teeth tightly pressed together.

"Don't you fucking say that." He growled, his eyes flashing. He moved to the foot of my bed, eyes boring deeply into mine. I'd never seen him like that before. In such a state of…emotion.

"What, say that I don't care one way or the other?"

"Don't you ever fucking say - or even think that for once second I don't love you anymore, Benji.” He paused, his eyes red and beginning to well up with tears. I felt my throat close up with masked emotions, “Don't you ever."

That was it. Those three simple sentences, the way he had said them – they broke me. The tears poured from my eyes, chest heaving and tightening so that I couldn't breathe. When I did manage to cast my gaze back to Joel, I saw him doubled over – tears racking through his body.

Under any other circumstance, we would've gone to each other for comfort. Wrapped our arms around the opposite, pulling energy from our bodies. It's funny how the one person who can keep you from crying is the one who brings the tears in the first place.

”You can't do this to me again Benji, you can't…” he sobbed, falling into the chair beside my bed. All I could do was shake my head, hands wiping profusely at my cheeks.

”I…”

”Don't say anything.”

Joel's eyes lifted from their position on the floor to meet mine again. He forced a small smile, his eyes that shade of brown that I was so accustomed to. Chuckling softly, he wiped a hand over his nose, closing his eyes.

”This was all so stupid…” he begun, resting his head in his hands. I managed to wipe some of the tears from my eyes, glad that my arms were working once more. Two and a half weeks really did a lot to a person, “this whole time you've been in here I've been at Billy's.”

”Not…”

”No. No.” he shook his head, eyes sliding to look at me. He studied my face for a long moment, before continuing. “I don't know, I just felt safe in that bed in Anne's place. It reminded me of when we were still struggling to have a band, struggling to face our emotions. You weren't suicidal and an alcoholic, and I wasn't so caught up in my own problems that I didn't even notice yours.”

”Why'd you do it, Joel?” I murmured.

”Why'd I do it? I didn't want to loose you, Benji. What we had was the only thing that ever made sense to me. When dad would beat us, when mom was loosing her sanity, all we had was each other. I didn't want to destroy the way we were brothers.”

”Just because of our… well, it doesn't mean we can't be brothers anymore, Joel. Just because we're twins doesn't mean shit.”

”I know. I know that now. I…fuck, Benj. It was just so complicated…”

”You called me Benj.”

A smile spread across his lips.

”Yeah. I did.”

That sentance put so much hope into me, but so much fear and restlessness at the same time. I knew I couldn't let myself give in to him again, but fuck...

”I…I don't know if I can do it again, Joel.” I mumbled, looking at my lap, “you fucking abandoned me. Not only that, but you dated some other-“

”I didn't date her.”

”Fuck Joel, you took her out. That classifies as a date.”

”But-“

”Shut up. Alright?” my eyes shot to meet his – lost, broken, confused. “I want this so bad, but fuck – I can't do this again. If you hurt me again, it'll fucking kill me. It would kill me, Joel.”

”I know…”

”And I can't go through life if you think that all I'm here for is if you get lonely.”

”I know…”

”You fucking broke me - us - out of nowhere Joel.”

”Benji,” he appeared over me suddenly – hovering inches over my body, “shut the fuck up.”

I felt my stomach jolt and knot as I felt his lips on mine, fucking pressed tightly against my skin. His right hand moved to brace himself beside my hip – left hand moving to rub against my arm.

Finding my strength, I moved my hands to press against his chest.

And I pushed him away.

He flew backwards, tripping over a plastic chair before landing violently against the floor.

”What the fuck, Benji!?”

”Don't fucking think that one god damned kiss can fix this Joel,” I wiped a hand over my lips quickly, trying to rid the taste of him from my mouth. I could feel the tears welling up inside my eyes, “…just leave, alright?”

”Don't push me away, Benji.” He whispered, trying to climb to his feet. It hurt me that I had done it – but fuck, I couldn't do it anymore.

I couldn't stand life without him, but I couldn't stand life with him. Not after this.

”Why, you pushed me away until I was fucking about to fall off the face of the earth. You didn't even fucking care, Joel.”

”I didn't care? I didn't fucking care? For Gods' sake.” He climbed to his feet, managing to brace himself against the chair he had fallen over to gain his balance back, “If I didn't fucking care, would I think about you every day? Would I be so scared to go home, because I might see some memories? If I didn't care, I wouldn't cry myself to sleep at night. Every night.” he paused, breathing hard. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks, violent and soft at the same time.

”If you cared you would have stopped being so selfish and came to see your fucking half dead brother to the hospital.”

”Selfish? You think I'm selfish?”

”Yeah Joel, I do. You know why? Because you didn't want to help me because it hurt you. You didn't want to see me dead because a part of you would die, too. You didn't want to go home by yourself because you didn't want to see our memories. You didn't want to continue our relationship because you were confused. Now you fucking tell me that isn't being selfish.”

I watched him breathe deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. Slowly, he stood up again – moving towards the door. I wanted to yell and scream at him, tell him to come back and say all the right things. But he didn't. He stood in the doorframe, and ran a hand through his hair.

Then he smiled.

A small, sad little smirk. It made my throat close up.

”Don't ever say, or even think that your not good enough for the world, Benj. The world isn't good enough for you.”


	30. GONE

”Mama, it's been a month. I need to do this eventually.” Moving the phone from one shoulder to the other, I eyed the cardboard box in front of me, “look. I know you think I'm running away from my problems, but that's not exactly it. I just need to relax for a while.

No, I don't know. Joel hasn't even been home since I got out of the hospital. I do care, it's just – fuck mama, I don't know. Alright? Sorry. Okay. I'll phone you when I get there, nothing'll go wrong. It's just some time I need to take. DC. No. Yes. Okay. Goodbye.”

Tossing the phone back onto the couch, I shifted the box that rested on the kitchen table. My belongings? Fuck, nothing was mine.

Joel's glasses. Joel's pillow. Joel's absence.

They were all his, and I had nothing to do with them any more.

Barely breathing, I picked the box up and carried it into my room. Four boxes were already outside in my car, two more to go. Hopefully I'd be able to fill them up.

I left Joel the food, and the furniture, because on the off chance that he came back to his life – he'd need them.

After emptying the remnants of my closet into the last box, I kicked it out of my (old?) room and into the living room. Just needed to check and make sure the lights were off, then I would leave.

Go back to DC, live in my own apartment down town. Maybe right above the Waldorf Market.

Just be Benji again.

Slamming the window shut in my room, I quickly fastened the latch and turned around to leave. I caught my reflection in the mirror as I was exiting, and immediately I felt my eyes mist when I also caught a glimpse of the photo that was wedged into the frame.

A picture of Joel and I, probably close to a two and half years ago. Maybe three. Just the two of us sitting on some long gone bench in an old bar. It was when we still looked the same – dark brown hair almost black, same smile, same skin – same person.

There was only two differences that I visibly noticed. Joel had a piercing hooked through his right eye brow, and the flash had turned my eyes red.

Ironic. The good twin; Joel – the bad twin; Benji. Red eyes are commonly associated with the devil, but I don't think I've ever seen a photo at any point in my life that had caught Joel's pupils like that. They were always the same shade of brown. The beautiful, chocolate color that I always thought was better then my own.

Shaking my head, I reached for the picture and pulled it from it's rightful place. I turned it over, not wanting to look at the back – but needing to remember it all the same.

'Benj and Joel – August 4th, 1997.', the 4th was scribbled out because I had been so confident the picture had actually been taken on the 5th. There was a small '5' written beside the '4'. A sad smile crossed my face as I noticed for the first time that at some point Joel had taken the time to scratch out the '5' and re-write '4'.

August 4th.

The day before our father left.

Growling, my fist curled before I had a chance to stop myself. The photo was turned into a small ball of paper.

”Fuck.” I murmured, hastily trying to flatten it out.

Tears sprung to my eyes, pissing me off that I was still crying over this. Us. I looked at it once more before growling and shoving it deep into my coat pocket. Some memories could never be the same.

Eyes still trained on the floor, I felt my flesh crawl. It was the most disgusting feeling I had ever felt – because it was so normal. It was so normal, that I knew exactly why I felt it before even moving.

Because “it was a twin thing”.

”Hi.”

I'll ignore him. I'll leave, and I'll never look back. Just like he's done to me - so many fucking times.

”Trying to ignore me?”

Pushing my way past my twin, I growled when I felt his hand hook the inside of my arm. I stumbled backwards to stand in front of his body, eyes penetrating. Frightening.

”Just leave me the fuck alone, alright?”

He smirked - his grip tightening. I wrenched my arm away; but his hands never let go,.. his fingers never loosened. Knuckles turning white with pressure.

”You can't run away from your problems, Benji. I'm your only problem, and all I can do is follow you. You're my big brother, Ben…my mentor…poor little Joel needs his older twin to survive..”

”Why won't you fucking leave. Just fucking get the hell out of my life so I can get on with it. I don't understand you, Joel. For once I don't understand!”

He was silent for a moment, breathing hard. I felt my heart rate quicken, knowing this wasn't Joel. This was a incarnation of what he had once been. The person standing in front of me had an inch too much hair on his head, too much stubble on his cheeks, too little understanding in his heart.

”You want me to help you comprehend? Huh?”

”What the fuck Joel, God damn it!”

I yanked my hand way and turned quickly to leave.

He fucking knew me. He knew that if I stayed there three seconds too long, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. If he said the right words, if he apologized – I wouldn't move. He fucking knew it. And that scared me more then the physical aspect of any fight that we may have. He could get under my skin – into my blood.

So wrapped up in my own thoughts, I was halfway out the door when I heard his cries. No. 'Cries' wasn't the word to describe this. The noises I heard were hysterical…they were full of pain and suffering and hurt and not enough comfort. They were the same emotion filled noises that filled my head every night.

”Fuck Benji, can you not fucking see it?”

Frozen.

Fuck. Leg, move. Walk. Left foot, right foot. Get the fuck out. Runrunrunrunrunrun. Never look back. Get the fuck out of the apartment, leave him. Let him die in a pile on the floor. Let him cry himself into a state of nothing…

”See what?”

For fucks sake.

”I…” another cry, so loud and so severe he could barely breathe by himself. I slowly turned around, pivoting on spot. He was leaned against the wall, his face destroyed and wet with tears. It was the first time I noticed the bruises around his eyes, the darkness of his skin, “I don't know why I make this so hard on myself. I want to be normal, I want to get married and be successful. I want you to like my girlfriend, and I want you to be the best man at my wedding.”

My heart sunk into the floor.

”Joel, I…”

”No. Please. Just let me get this out. I want you to be the best man at my wedding. But then I look at you, and I imagine what the girl I'll end up with will look like. And I know that I won't love her enough, I won't be the best father to my children, I won't be myself, Benji. You were right what you said before, there isn't a Joel without a Benji. And fuck, just the thought of having to kiss someone and love someone that actually loves me just…it makes me want to die. Okay? It makes me. want to. die.”

”Well then turn gay and get a boyfriend.” I hissed, turning to leave. I was going to do it this time.

”Benji!” his voice was exasperated, pleading. “I'm not gay! Fuck, I'm not straight either. I don't know what the fuck I am. Seems the only thing I ever want is you, for Christ's sake. Nothing can make me feel like you, Benj.”

Okay. So. Maybe I'm not leaving after all.

”What, you just want me to fucking, forget everything you did to me – forget the sleepless nights, forget the puddles of blood, forget how you abandoned me,… and come running back into your arms – because you miss me?”

Confusion crossed his face. And we stood there, for seconds that seemed like hours.

”Yeah. I do.”

It hit me like a ton of bricks. Those three simple words his me so fucking hard - and then my mind was made up.

”You selfish bastard.” I growled. “You fucking selfish bastard!”

I don't think I've ever lashed out at anyone like I did to him at that moment. It felt like I was fueled on hate. I lunged at him, and we both fell into the wall before I realized what I was doing.

”Benji get the fuck off of me!”

”You bastard!” I screamed, my voice sounding distant and unlike my own. I wasn't sure if I was crying or not.

He fought against me for a moment, trying to get out from underneath me. Maybe it would have worked a few minutes ago, but now, I was so set on my anger that nothing could stop me. It was a bit ironic. A year ago, I was so set on love that the laws and the rules felt like they didn't apply. Now, they were set on hate.

I just hoped it wouldn't get the best of me.

”You listen to me Joel, right now.” I murmured, my face an inch away from his. Our breathing was erratic, not matching up and in sync as it normally was, “I hate you. I fucking hate you with every fiber in my body.” I took a deep breath, watching the tears well up in his eyes, “and I hate myself because I love you so much – even when I shouldn't. It's like I can't fucking answer what's wrong, because nothing is ever right.”

”Stop with all the dramatic bullshit.” He whispered.

”What?”

”Stop it. Okay? This is not a soap opera. This is life, Benji. And we can't keep breaking out into these huge psychological arguments that would sound better if they were on “Dawson's Creek” or something.” He whispered. I loosened my grip on him, realizing exactly how hard my fingers had been tightened at his arms.

”This is never going to be better, is it?”

His eyes saddened, and the small shake of his head made my stomach drop to my knees.

”Then I need to go.”


	31. I'm gonna be alright without you

If you had told me that in my life, I was going to encounter all of the hardships and problems that I had to face – I probably wouldn't have believed you.

Today was my third birthday without Joel – and I could barely believe that I had gotten this far. It was almost like a great accomplishment for me, because it was like living without oxygen or blood for over one thousand days.

And believe me; I had spent a good portion of those hours and days wondering if I should have left in the first place.

Mom told me he was fine. He got married and had a kid, just like he always thought he would. Just like I really should have. Instead I moved back to Waldorf, moved into some small apartment on the east side and waited for my death day to come.

But I didn't regret any moment that I had with him.

The last I had heard of my baby twin was the night before his supposed wedding. A teary, short message on my answering machine.

”B-Ben…I cried today…b-but not because I miss you, Benji…not because I wanted you, either…It…it's just that I finally realized…that…Benji, I'm gonna be alright…without you. I'm going to be alright without you, Benji. This is Joel.”

I had tried to phone him back, but all I got was Paul.

If I had reached Joel, I knew for a fact that I wouldn't be sitting alone right now. I knew with both my brain and my heart that I'd still be with him. The fact that he can move on with his life without me hurts me more then having to physically live without him.

I phoned seven times that night. Seven times that I heard an automated voice mail, Paul, and once – even the minister. I knew he didn't want to talk to me either. I knew because he would have given in. He would have forgotten about his fiancé, and he would have climbed on the next plane to get to me.

Sometimes I wonder if he ever thinks about me. When he's lying in bed, next to his wife with his child in the next room – does he let his thoughts wander? Does he ever cry himself to sleep, does he even remember me – remember what we were together?

I should be over him. Fuck, it's been three years. I tell myself every time I look in the mirror, every time I let myself remember him. He never asks mom about me. All those Christmas dinners, and birthday cakes he's had in the last three years, he's been with my family. Our family.

And I've been stuck in some hole in the wall – wishing myself away into darkness. But hey, it's always the darkest just before it goes black…right?

It hurt me day in and day out, whether I wanted it to or not. Because deep down, every time my phone rang, I wished it was him. Every time the door bell chimed, I wished it was him. Whether I wanted to or not, I couldn't forget him.

Fuck, sometimes I wonder how he managed to forget me.

Sometimes I wonder if he did forget me.

But the point was, and still stood – that it was over. Another part of my life was over, and that's all it was. Another phase of Benji's life that had come to an end, no matter how wonderful it was. No matter how much I missed it.

I had woken up this morning, thinking maybe it could be better. I crawled out of bed and had a cold shower, and I ate my breakfast and left all before ten a.m. After wondering around down town DC for most part of the morning – somehow I ended up at the old playground at our old school.

We loved that playground, because we seemed to think that it had the biggest red slide, the tallest monkey bars, the most wood chips to soften our falls. I was thinking about sitting down, remembering about some of the days Joel and I had just been the 'Combs twins'.

Then I had seen them. Two kids, probably no more then six or seven. They didn't look like Joel and I, both with bright copper hair and emerald green eyes – but that was it. I had froze, halfway towards a bench and halfway back to the sidewalk. I watched them for a few moments, observing how they were so carefree. Then one of them got their foot stuck inside the tire swing; he was the one wearing blue overalls.

The other twin, the one with matching green, had come running. I hadn't even seen where he had come from, it was almost out of nowhere. But he ran faster then their mother, faster then anyone possibly could to save him. Save his twin. And that was exactly what he did, popping his foot out from between the chains, catching him when he tripped from being so shaken up.

And that was where it ended. For me, anyway. I knew for a fact that no matter how many people I might encounter over the next ten years of my life – no matter how many I might like, there will never be love.

I can't live with that. Death really is life without love.

So I had run. That's right, some almost twenty six year old covered with tattoos and piercings had run so fast and so hard that his legs hurt. I ran, probably close to forty minutes. None of it worked – because we had lived here. Joel and I had lived in this area our whole lives.

We had never gone to the beach. We had always said it was so stupid that they made a pool that looked like a beach, because DC didn't have any natural ones. And they had done exactly that – taken some concrete mess of a pool and stuck it between sand and palm trees. Instant tourist attraction.

Needless to say, that was where I had ended up. Sitting on a fake log, watching the sun beat down on teenagers who were happy and carefree.

Then I had turned around, and walked back into reality.

Now, this was just another bad memory I was living through. Another bad memory. Only this time Joel isn't here to save me. He wasn't going to wake me up, he wasn't going to take death from my clutches again.

So when I gone to the grocery store on my way home, I only brought three things. A pad of paper, a pack of pencils, and a single razor blade. I only needed one, because that was all I'd ever be. One.

I had scribbled a goodbye on the pad of paper, with the pencils that I had brought. And then I walked through my small home, taking only two things into the bathroom with me.

The small shard of metal that would put me to my death, and the wrinkled photograph I had kept all those years.

When I sat down on the covered toilet seat this time, I wasn't scared. I wasn't sad, I wasn't hopeful, I wasn't full of love or hate.

I just was.

And now, as I sit all alone in the dark, I almost wish Joel was there to take the razor from between my grasp. Almost. I bring my wrist close to my face, studying the veins. This time I didn't avoid the largest, longest vein. This time the last thing I heard was my own gasps.

This time it was real.

 

Epilogue: Was It Worth It?

I don't remember meeting Joel, but I don't remember a day without him, either. Ever since I can remember it's been us; just the two Madden twins fighting the world. Never in my life would I have thought the day would come where I'd have to do it alone.

It's true. I guess you could say I'm just another statistic of America - not being able to live without the person I most need and want, I gave up and ended it. I ended it all because the pain and suffering for me, emotionally, was so bad and so violent, that I couldn't handle it anymore. Can you believe it? Tough guy Benji can't handle losing his brother – fuck, not even loosing him physically. Just living without him.

It's been three years since I ran away, but I can't feel anything but sadness. I've tried to tell myself he's happy and he's living and alive, but it just doesn't work like that. He was part of me, and I of him. I've been alone; closing myself off to everything because I couldn't handle the truth of it. I couldn't handle the fact that Joel had seen it, Joel had touched it...

Everybody has a point in their life when they realize that that's it. This is how it's going to be. When I heard his voice that last time on my answering machine, I knew that was it. It was just Benji, and it would be like that, forever. Forever.

I'm so sick of being scared to be alone, and the one moment I was, I couldn't handle the deafening silence; the cold walls and the cold world. Everything is gone for me. You can't understand, but I've been so suppressed by my fears, that I had shielded myself with Joel. Joel had been my support and my lifeline, and now he's gone. It was always Benji and Joel, Joel and Benji. Joel can't be on one side of the continent, while Benji's on the other. It doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense to me, and because of that, I can't make sense of my life.

So maybe one day it'll be Joel and Benji again. But until that day, I can't walk the same earth and the same surfaces without him. You can't understand – how can you? How real my pain is, how real my sanity will be. The only common feature in my life was dysfunctional relationships - and now I guess this takes the prize.

I wished he would have left, like he did the first time. Taken his memories, and taken his presence, and taken everything of him out of me. His thoughts, his feelings, and his heart. Maybe then I could have survived alone. But not like this. Not. like. this.

I was so weak when I left – I had hoped and wished that Joel had come to find me. He hadn't. He moved on, and that made me feel like death was looming over me. Every day. Every. Single. Day.

So this is it. As I look back on my past, I remember the tears I cried, the jokes I laughed at, the things I missed & lost, but there's one thing I'll never regret - and that was falling in love with my brother.

Nobody knew; and until this day nobody was intended to. Maybe that's why it still hurts. Because I can't feel him; I can't sense him, and it's just too much. He captivated me, even when we were infants. Why discover my feet and toes, when I can reach over and find Joel? Why look in the mirror at my brown eyes, when I could look into the eyes of Joel? Why have milky white skin (no ink included), when I could touch Joel's?

And it worked him for me. He'd wipe away my tears, remind me of better times, make me laugh when I was depressed, and pull me out of my dark holes when nobody else seemed to care. He held my hand as we grew up, always defending me when a classmate would pick on me - saying he was just jealous, he wanted to be Benji.

I'll never forget what he said to me that one day. "It'll be okay, Benj. I promise. They just all want to be you. But they'll never be you, Benji. Never, not even if they tried. I promise, Ben."

I tried to kill the pain by falling back into my music; but it just brought more. I found the songs that he had written for me, the extra strings to his acoustic guitar - the memories that were once Good Charlotte. I've got pictures to prove that he was once mine, that he was real. I can't forget about him or call it a living dream for my whole live. I can't forget him when all I can feel is his presence stifling me.

When it came to my life, I could never control it. I never knew where I would wake up; how I would eat, or where I would die. Ironically I now know the answer to the last question. I know what it feels like to want to die. I know what it feels like to love someone with your whole heart; your whole aching heart, which you'll stab just to be with them again. And I know what it feels like to hate yourself. Joel could always reassure me. Take the razor from between my bleeding fingers, save me from a sea of alcoholisms, mend my heart; make me whole again.

I loved my brother; more than live itself. We were always good at hiding things - never from each other; but from the world. Of course on the odd occasion, we would slip up - but it would never spark interest. Hell, we didn't even know what our growing urges were until we were near twenty.

Remembering the first time we touched in more of a brotherly way, it still brings me to my knees. I know, it's disgusting and it's abnormal - but it was the most pure thing I'd ever felt in my life. I knew it was real, and I knew I couldn't ignore the feelings I had. So we walked in the shadows, our broken dreams uniting to form one. I don't think, to this day, he knows how much he controlled my life. Joel was my life.

I would give my life.

But I know that if I did that, he would be stronger then me. He always was, really. I protected him, but he was always stronger. He was the one who shed rare tears over our father leaving, our mother being hospitalized. He helped me through being an alcoholic; and he wouldn't give up on me if he caught a brown paper bag in the fridge.

It hurt though. The look he would give me, it sent chills down my spine and I would beg and plead for him to forgive me - I didn't drink any, it was just there if I needed it. He wouldn't acknowledge it when he found the bottles, but I would always throw them out because I knew he thought less of me when I did that.

Those hours..days,..weeks - that we were apart, it tore me to shreds. I almost killed myself then, too. I guess that's just more proof that I can't live without him. I remember how bright the lights were when I cut through my layer of skin - the razor glinting in the artificial light. He had come home from the venue that night, yelling at me because he was so in love with me he hated me. But then he had seen it. The distant look in my eyes, the ruby blood dripping down my arm.

All I'd told him was that..this was his. The blood dripping down my arm, the body crumpled up on the floor - it belonged to him. As much as I wanted to be a possession to myself again, I could never accept it. I had given my body, mind, and soul to him.

I'm not proud of that moment; and I'm not proud of this, either. I've learned that good-byes will always hurt, pictures never replace having been there, memories, good or bad, will bring tears; and words can never replace feelings - but I still haven't learned how to be by myself. I'd never been alone, and I don't want to start now.

Joel was always better at words than I was, he'd always write the better lyrics and explain his thoughts fluidly. I was just a rack of nouns and syllables, waiting for Joel to compromise my thoughts and make sense out of them. He'd told me one time, when we were writing a song. I remember how he said it. "Benji, they may forget what you said... but... they'll never forget how you made them feel."

So, I apologize to my mother - for being a bad son, a worse support system, and a disgusting incest bastard. There's nothing I can write on this paper that will tell you how much I love you, if you feel like crying... Don't feel like I do. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry but I'm all alone right now. I'm alone, because although I'm standing in a room full of crowded people; the only person I want to talk to isn't there.

Josh, Sarah. I love you. I know we always fought as many siblings did; you both were always so jealous of Joel and I. So fucking jealous. Look at me now, Sarah. Look at me and tell me you want a twin, tell me you want to end up in a pool of blood. Tell me Josh, do you think the stark white of the bathroom tiles will match my crimson blood? Are you jealous of me now? Are you jealous of how alone I feel; how disgusted at myself I am for loving my other half? I tried to slow down, I tried to fix this. But I can't. I'm emotionally shattered, and soon I'll be there in physical condition.

I also express regret to Billy and Paul. I know you both think I'm a sick fuck for loving my brother and dying for him; but life lost its flavor for me. We didn't know what to tell you, or if we should. We were fucked if we did; double fucked if we didn't. So we ignored it when we were around you. It's like I fell…but nobody's arms were there to pull me back up. Nobody was strong enough - not even my best friends and 'brothers', as you are. Were. Good Charlotte is immortal in my heart; keep them representing for me. I hope you continue to find a better life then what I carried on my back; I've got every place to go, there's just nobody waiting for me.

My father. Yes, the inevitable. I hope you die. I hate you so much, with every bone in my body. You destroyed my childhood; you haunted the rest of my life. So many people like me put so much trust in all your lies; I wanted to believe you were a good person so bad, daddy. I wanted to love you and be proud of you; how can I do that now? How can I live when I've had so many standoff's with you, I'm ready to collapse? I've battled you in my head so many years, dad. So many years. You win. Okay? The fights over, dad. The wrestling match has been decided, and you fucking win this time. You win.

The ink on this paper is blurred and smudged from my tears. I'm sorry. Joel always told me I had no penmanship.

I tried to watch the sun rise today. I wanted to remember the earth as a warm and comforting place; but it isn't. It's so cold and I'm so alone and...I've never been good at literature. Does a suicide letter count at literature? You can do whatever you like with this piece of paper when you find it. Burn it and forget me, forget the way I lived and the way I died. Save it away, file it into one of your memories. Try and remember me as a happy person. This isn't me, who's writing this. It's...it's...not me. I died a long time ago; this is just my final word of thanks.

I never knew if I would make it to be thirty. I guess I know the answer, now. I always said I had it under control...guess the reigns just slipped from my grasp this time. Only...this time there's no stopping to tighten my grip. I let go, and I disappeared into bad memories and nightmares.

My final words are written to Joel.

I guess my last string snapped this morning. You remember that park we always used to go to as kids? The one with the bigger monkey bars, the longer slide? I visited it this morning, trying to pick up the pieces you left behind with me. I had sat on one of the swings, the sun shining in my face and reminding me of how alone I felt. When the sun shone in your face, all I saw was myself. Now..I don't see anything.

I saw twins, Joel. I saw two little boys, probably five or six. And I broke. I watched the way they ran after each other. I watched as one got stuck in the tube swing, his tiny leg bent the wrong way over him. The other came over, and pulled him right out. He started crying, afraid that he had gotten his foot twisted, and the other just hugged him. It seemed to fix the problem, and then I realized..I don't have that any more.

So I had run. I ran all the fucking way to the beach, because I knew we had never visited it. Nobody would be down there, no twins and no brothers, and no lovers. And I was right. My intuition hasn't worked since I left, Joel, but then. It was right. I had watched the water until noon; knowing it was going to be the last time I saw it.

I love you so much, Joel. It hurts sometimes; and it scares me that one feeling is strong enough to kill me. One moment, decided by this feeling; deciphers the rest of my life. But I also feel closure. Knowing that you would do the same. You would do the same, wouldn't you Joel? I remember when we used to talk about picking up a pen; writing a new identity instead of a new song. I hope they miss me, Joel. I really do.

I hope they miss me when they lay in bed at night. I hope dad wonders if he could have saved me; if he would have wanted to. I wonder if they'll cry for me, I wonder if they'll wish we were dead anyways. I wonder if anybody will find me before Monday? It's Friday night, Joel. I was going to watch a one of our old home movies, maybe I could concentrate on it while the razor digs deep into my veins.

No. I won't. I want to bleed for you, Joel. Remember how mom always told us 'If you don't have anything worth dying for, you don't have anything worth living for.'? Well I guess it's true. I lived for you, and now I'll die for you.

I wish I had something inspirational to say, that makes everybody think "Benji, you were such a good guy.", I wish I had effected somebody's life other then my own. But I don't have anything like that to say. All I can feel is the weightlessness between the floor and the ceiling; and all of the memories I can't erase.

Joel always affected me in more ways than one. The thing I loved most about my brother was how he could always make me feel like I still had one foot in reality - when I knew that wasn't true at all. The best thing I can say now is something Joel read to me years ago. 'We enjoy warmth because we have been cold. We appreciate light because we have been in darkness. By the same token, we can experience joy because we have known sadness...."

So I guess that's it. If you didn't understand my silence, you won't understand my words. The dark now has a firm grip on my hands, so this is my final goodbye. It's always darkest just before it goes pitch black...right? I'm about to cut myself free; bleed away dying.

Mad Love,  
Benj.


End file.
